The creative person wants to be a know-it-all. He wants to know about all kinds of things-ancient history, nineteenth century mathematics, current manufacturing techniques, hog futures. Because he never knows when these ideas might come together to form a new idea. It may happen six minutes later, or six months, or six years. But he has faith that it will happen (Carl Ally)
The most potent muse of all is our own inner child (Stephen Nachmanovitch)
Digging into my inspiration ‘box’ I have come out with this gorgeous creature. I do not know where I am going with her, but holding her in my hand, I can feel the magic starting to squirm. The magic within has been blocked for a while. It is time to open the little windows and let the creative energy out.
I was telling Tom today, that I loved the route I was taking with my bound Barbies and then was sent on a detour (by my lecturers) which I grew to hate and did intellectually rather than from my heart. I realised that now I can go wherever I like with my heart. What an exhilarating feeling!
What else is in my inspiration box at the moment?
Antique binoculars, some red bells, the Tibetan travelling shrine, a fob watch, a concave lens watch, some tiny bottles, some antique food colouring in little bottles, some wooden picture frames, a very old Bible (from a junk shop – not the family Bible!), ribbons, tins, stones, shells, twigs, skeleton leaves, some wool, some fabric, old photos…
I close my eyes and am on a journey in a boat, floating down a river. On the shore I see a beautiful chest. I don’t know what is inside. I hold onto a tree branch to anchor myself. Do I want to climb out of the boat and see what is in the chest, but then risk the boat floating away?
I clamber out of the boat, as I see smoke wisping its way out of the chest, purple smoke. I pull the boat onto the shore and scramble over to the chest. The boat starts to waft away into the gently moving river. I can always catch up to it later, I hope. I try to lift the lid of the chest. It doesn’t budge. I see the little lock and realise I need a key.
My boat is disappearing round a bend and I don’t have a key. I turn over the chest and taped to the bottom is a little tag and a key! The writing on the tag is minute.
Am I brave enough, is my heart pure enough?? Have I found my inner magic – do I even have any magic? I doubt myself – I cannot open the chest…
Actually I can open the chest. I will open it: I will take a risk!
I take the key and turn it in the lock; I slowly prise open the lid and inside