can you call a colour a muse?
by annika hein on september 11, 2015
Muse; an idea embodying or relating to the concept of inspiration, readily available and plentiful in its promise, if only you know where to look, where to rest, where to wait a little longer, interpret a little differently. Like formations of the imaginary, words and thoughts seemingly coming to life, it’s hard to identify the exact source of their inception, where reality ends and fantasy begins;
Where the muse’s power or perhaps talent starts and yours abruptly halts.
Yet despite the controversy we continually choose to take part in the magic, the infatuation. In the same notion of choice, we also choose, more often than not to perceive these muses as people, beings, individuals with an innate ability to instigate a creative landslide.
Don’t disrupt the vortex, quickly, inhale, consume, manifest; get it all down.
But, if we pay closer, more intuitive attention, these people, although complex and abundant in their individual existence are more often than not coupled with alternative factors and intricacies when bestowing on us their muse-like effects. Can a colour be a muse? A particular note or pitch in a piece of music? Can a word be a muse? In same way we identify with people who we believe to be muses, these alternative factors; things, experiences, objects, can inspire that same level of heightened creativity, a catalyst heading straight into the abyss, where the physical struggles to keep up with the mental, the conceptual.
Don’t disrupt the vortex, quickly, inhale, consume, manifest;
Hands typing too fast, as to not lapse too far behind, thoughts erratic and impatient, endlessly circling too fast, not fast enough. Keep the momentum. Write faster, paint more fluidly, capture and consume more than you know you need. Don’t break the cycle.
; get it all down
If we then look further again, it’s the way in which these notions of inspiration are presented to your visual self. You may identify a concept as your muse, a colour, a piece of music, the depth of loneliness in a strangers eyes, however it’s the type of colour, that single particular bar of music, the weight of that loneliness in relation to the stranger’s fragile beauty. The constructs of how these things are presented make them muse-worth… but only to you, only by your standards and your ability to interpret and be inspired by them. Caught off guard a little clumsy and just a little too crumpled, nothing too forced, relaxed as a notion of description, because sometimes things aren’t supposed to look nice or look perfect, sometimes things are supposed to look exactly as they do.
Breathe, you made it through.