I can't help but smile as she asks me about art. "For me, it's like composing." Like Rachmaninoff, I hear stories like they're complex melodies. My muse never sleeps. Sometimes this is a curse, sometimes, I feel blessed.
Today I feel blessed.
I also describe art as divining. My characters and stories are tarot cards that I pull out of some far corner of the universe. They are saying something to me and I need a little help to interpret it. They are ghosts that waft in and out of my walls. Some pass through without a word, and some beg me to tell their story.
Maria Popova describes artist, Agnes Martin as a "midwife of awareness". I love this beyond words. I usually identify with the vivante, curious Maiden. But with my art, I am the midwife and mother that guides them from the realm of Artistic Mysteries to ours. I nurture them and advise them until I am ready to send them out into the universe on their own.
Elizabeth Gilbert in her alchemical book (which is under Self-Help shelves at Barnes & Noble, but I think it should really be under Sacred Texts) Big Magic, she describes ideas as follows:
"Ideas are a disembodied, energetic life-form. They are completely separate from us, but capable of interacting with us—albeit strangely...Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest."
Storytelling is holy work. It is tentative. It is grueling, it is fulfilling. It'll make you weep, it will fill you with joy.
Dive and Divine. This is my manifesto. When I am afraid of my Muse's call to action, I must dive because some ideas need my help to get to the other side.