Creative Bio-rhythm

I hit these patches where nothing comes, days and days on end, and nothing.  I pick up my knitting, I put it down.  Now I am pretty sure that my new afghan will not be done until next year.  I look at my spinning wheel with its grass green funky blend  and ecru lambs wool and sigh.  The gasket needs repair, I know just a piece of cotton string will do.  But blah.  I don’t really want to venture out to get it.  It wouldn’t be difficult.  I swear.  Two roosters sit stuffing exposed, I cluck at them as I walk by.  A doll idea inspired by teaching children Egyptian art (Zombie in a sarcophagus, charm girdled woman goddess which is an oxymoron imho).

Instead I dream crazy dreams,  I stand at my post at school, my friend the art teacher with the bad fortune to still be a lowly TA walks by calling my name, Meg, Meg, I rattle my skull and glassy eyed look up.  Hey.  Where were you? Daydreaming about kissing.   She laughs at me.  I am hopeless I say.  She laughs as she continues on her dreamy way.  She understands this fallow period, she is just coming out of one.

What inspires you I ask my students as I tell them about Aborigines.  They are inspired by their ancestors, their dream times, their songs and stories. I play a dirigidoo clip and they start rocking it out, they stand around me watching and laughing out loud.  Play more, play more.  I show them images painted by Laurel Burch and like the kuiper belt on the fringes of my mental solar system some idea is brewing.  And yet I sigh.  Not feeling inspired.  It happens this way, and it always has.  In a few days or a few weeks or maybe even a month or two. It will hit me. Like a ton of squishy fabric bricks.  I will wake at 4 am and leap out of bed, I will run down and make tea because coffee takes too long and I will run upstairs and crank up Classical Indian Music, or Tom Waits, or the Bob Marley covers being sung by people around the world, or some other random thing that popped into my head in a dream and then I will sew or paint or embroider til my fingers hurt.

Meanwhile I inspire others.  And daydream about that kiss, which I am not certain will ever come.

What inspires you?

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