I often wonder about the nature of 'inspiration'. What makes us create? How does creativity work and what evokes it? Is she a golden spark, a veiled goddess, a shy butterfly, a ray of sunlight?
How can we catch her and get her to assist us?
Why, when trying, we keep failing dramatically?
Inspiration does not want to be called.
Neither wishes to be invited, to be enticed, or to be given orders.
We can't buy, earn, achieve, give or take her.
Until we get the message.
Until we stop trying.
she flutters down,
covers our brain with a wing
and lightly guides our hand.
And sometimes...when cleaning brushes on a newspaper with skribbles, she's there and giggles at us.
She does not want to be found.
She wants to find us.