Inspiration
It's a fickle thing, Inspiration. One day it's all over you, like chocolate pudding on nude women wrestlers; the next day it's gone so quickly that, like a bad hangover, you can't remember if it was really there at all—or if you slept with it.
You can’t plan for Inspiration. You can’t lure it in with the smell of apple pie or the feel of 700-thread-count sheets. You can’t say, “Hmm, this month, I think I’ll be inspired. I think I shall do something creative.”
No, brothers and sisters, it doesn’t work that way.
Now, I realize that creativity is possible when you’re not inspired. In fact, one of the hallmarks of a pro is that s/he can produce creative work even when the urge is not overwhelming. But I’m not talking about simply typing or painting or running a movie camera; I’m talking about Inspiration. And that’s different.
When you’re inspired, you’re suddenly overcome by the desire to say something, to paint something, to sing something. Inspiration can also be a rescuer. If you’re a creative person who has been mired in stagnant thinking or predictable experiences, Inspiration throws you a line, pulls you out, dusts you off, gives you a pep talk and cab fare, and, depending on the severity of your condition, either makes sure you get home safely or accompanies you there and lives in the pool house for a while.
The forms Inspiration takes are limitless. A painting in a secluded corner of a museum. A song heard on an elevator. A sunrise, an open road, a freshly painted room. It can be anything really, but if you’re lucky, Inspiration takes the form of a person you never thought you’d meet, someone who arrives like the cool, ozone-rich breeze after a storm and blows away all of your discouragement. These people are rare, and when they come into our lives, we have to treasure every moment, every word we share with them.
Sometimes we’re another person’s Inspiration, and without realizing it, we give that person a few words of encouragement, a few moments of unadulterated appreciation, that will carry that person to the next level. It's one of the best feelings in life, and we should be thankful any time we get a chance to do this for somebody.
The Training Montage from Rocky II. I love this scene. If you skip ahead to the 1:00 mark and watch from there, you’ll understand how I’m feeling right now. Believe it or not, I once ran up those steps at sunrise myself. (It's the Philadelphia Museum of Art, by the way.) I was in Philly for a convention, and the Embassy Suites, where I was staying, was directly down the street. There are chains there now because too many jerks like me were running up there.
Once you're inspired, the trick is keeping Inspiration around. Luckily, the Ancient Greeks, Homer actually, already figured out how to do this. Ever since I read a great book about the creative process called The War of Art, wherein the author describes the following invocation of the Muse from The Odyssey, I've recited it myself every morning while in the middle of a new project. Here it is:
O Divine Poesy, goddess, daughter of Zeus,
sustain for me this song of the various-minded man who,
after he had plundered the innermost citadel of hallowed Troy,
was made to stray grievously about the coasts of men,
the sport of their customs, good and bad,
while his heart, through all the sea-faring,
ached with an agony to redeem himself
and bring his company safe home.
Vain hope—for them. The fools!
Their own witlessness cast them aside.
To destroy for meat the oxen of the most exalted Sun,
wherefore the Sun-god blotted out the day of their return.
Make this tale live for us in all its many bearings, O Muse. . . .
May Inspiration find you soon and keep you always.