kris7

"It is a writer, with nothing left that he knows how to say. It is an artist, and fingers that will never touch the vision." - Neil Gaiman, Fifteen Portraits of Despair, from the book Sandman: Endless Nights

I've never liked the idea of a "muse". All my life as a writer, I preferred to depend soley on myself for ideas and whatnot. Even if I was writing a series of poems about a girl, be it out of love or hate, I never considered her my muse. She may have been a muse in theory, but I've never identified anyone or anything as a muse, ever. I simply don't like the idea of being dependent on anyone or anything but myself. Sure, I may read books and listen to music for inspiration, but there are no muses. If a girl is involved, she isn't a muse, she is simply the subject matter. (I know, I know, this all sounds awfully cold, distant, and calculated coming from ol' sentimental and romantic me. I don't mean it to sound that way, this is just the way it is).

I haven't written much in a really long time. As a matter of fact, I've barely written in my marble notebooks, which act as a seperate place for me to write for the sheer sake of catharsis without worrying if it all sounds like one big self-indulgent blues jam. I think the problem is that the constantly shifting hours at my present job not only keep me working there in evenings, but are also random enough to sabotage any routine I could possibly establish to go out and meet with friends on a regular basis. Another hinderance is the fact that a local open mic I frequented changed locations from a small independent coffee shop to the basement/lounge of a church. I'm all for growing and expanding and what have you, but this new place greatly lacks the atmosphere of the older venue.

When all this holiday nonsense is over I'm going to try to find a permanent job with hours in the daytime, so I can alternately hang out and search for work in my field by night. Not only is this current job unpleasant, but it is also stifling my creativity. This threat cannot go unnoticed.

On the other hand, one might say that the long stories I've been typing up for this journal and my xanga, are some sort of creativity. Though the introspection has done me good, there is no real way to move foreward with it articstically. I am very terrible with writing fiction. Let's just say that my earliest "attempts" are worthwhile blackmail material.

The only real way I could ever write fiction would be to fictionalize a true story from my past. The part that messes with me on that is that stupid disclaimer that is required for all fictional books, films, etc: "This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to places, persons or things, living or dead, is entirely coincidental blah blah blah blah". I find it insulting that this disclaimer also appears in poetry books. The poet knows damn well that what happened in the poem is true, but for the sake of not being sued or implicated in a crime of some sort, the disclaimer is needed. While I understand the practical applications of this disclaimer, it aggravates me as an artist who, on the whole, writes about things that indeed have taken place and/or are taking place.

Anyway, I'm thinking of reading a lot more books and seeing more movies to stir up my inspiration. On that note, I would like to give one piece of happy creative news: while listening to the new A Perfect Circle album, something exciting happened. A while ago when at an open mic, an idea for a poem came to me. I had a notebook, but no pen; thus the idea slipped away from me. Listening to the song "The Noose" by APC suddenly made the idea come back to me! That has NEVER happened to me before, EVER.

Well, tomorrow is the evil Friday where the mindless masses begin their feeding frenzy of purchasing products for happy holidays (damn, alliteration, like woah). So I really need to get some sleep. Goodnight.

"I need to get what I came for
I need to get what I need now
I need to get what I'm craving
I need to smile and get what's mine
give this to me"

- A Perfect Circle "The Package"