Light from My Muse

Don't stare at the sun for too long unless you have protective glasses.  Then you can stare at it forever.

What do you see when you look at the painting?  Do you see the painstaking effort of an artist, or something more?  Do you feel yourself being transported to a magical place, or is that just the security guards moving you back because you're too close to the painting?  In my case, I see a lot of things now from a security guard approved distance.

The sun's heat was hanging in the still air.  The reflection off the water made the view even more impressive.  This is the world as it should be.  We sat together on the hillside above the water, holding hands, but not daring to make eye contact for fear it would take us out of that moment.  This place was new and different from anywhere I had ever been.  Not just the location, but my emotional state as well.  I had never been so open, so ready to experience rejection.   How did we get here?  What does Italy smell like?  I looked into her eyes, and I knew the truth.  Our hands gently interlocked and the sunlight appeared to be just a little bit brighter.  The blinding light and brilliant heat were overwhelming.  How did something so powerful sneak into view without us noticing?

None of that happened, in part because I've never been to Italy.  An AcMo business trip to Italy to tour the Pagani, Lamborghini, and Ferrari factories is planned.  We need to get in there and see what they're doing right so we can copy it for our own production lines.  That's how good business is done.  Copy the good, and remove the bad.  Let someone else do all of the R&D spending.  We don't need to know why something works, as long as it does.

My muse, let's just say her name is Susan (not her real name), unlocked intense potential within me.   I remember the first time I saw her sitting on the lawn in the quad with two of her friends years ago.  It was a warm spring afternoon with students gathering to enjoy the weather.  I was supposed to be in class, but as usual, I had gotten lost on the way.  I thought about asking for directions, but I was distracted when I saw Susan.  I was immediately struck by how friendly she appeared.  And I just sort of noticed that Susan's other friend I didn't know was pretty cute.  My education could wait.  I approached with a simple plan:  get Susan to introduce me to her friend.  What I didn't realize at the time was that we would form a bond because of that decision.  My plan worked, and I got closer to Susan's friend, but I soon discovered that they weren't really friends because some people love conflict, and she secretly resented Susan.

There is an inherent disadvantage to making plans.  They never work the way they are intended.  I had made two new friends, but the one I liked was evil.  I thought I could deal with it by ignoring her evil tendencies, but I was wrong.  That relationship blew up almost as fast as one of our guaranteed engine builds.  My friendship with Susan survived the wreckage though.  That's more than we can normally salvage from a failed engine.  Susan made me want to be a better writer and she inspired me, but I can't figure out why.  She had power over me that I had never before experienced.  What would I do with the power she shared?  Nothing.  It was easier to let it slip through my grasp than doing the work to force the words into their proper places.  That takes pain and suffering and time.  I didn't realize that the end result makes all of the downside worth the challenge.  My younger mind believed that a muse did all of the work of writing too.  It took many failed assignments before I understood I was responsible for turning inspiration into paragraphs.

My story spontaneously burst from my brain when I stared at the intense sunlight emanating from the painting.  Why?  My brain likes to create stories whenever possible.  It's just something it does without my input or consent.  It is the curse of an uncontrolled brain and a broken logic switch.  I would tell you a story about that, but it is late and I have so much more to do before the sun rises.

Thinking about the above reminds me of a time when I was searching for enlightenment in the recycling bins.  I thought I had found it after being deep in there for a few hours, but it was just an empty soda bottle.  It was a cruel trick perpetrated by an exhausted mind on an unsuspecting victim.  That incident taught me that you can't find enlightenment in dumpsters, but you can find bees.  Oh lord, there are so many bees.  I guess they were also under the impression that enlightenment was available in there so they set up shop waiting until it arrived.  Unfortunately, I arrived without enlightenment, but with an unwilling soft target to be stung...repeatedly.  Bees can't be reasoned with or talked down when you invade their hive.  Trust me on that.

I now only seek enlightenment from places I have confirmed are bee free.  As for my Susan, she continues to inspire me to create wonderful things.  One day I'll even tell her, but I want to find enlightenment, or at the very least wisdom, first because then I will know exactly what to say at the right moment.