Saturday, March 15, 2014

Inspiration


Originally Posted Sunday, March 24, 2013

I can't bear to write another weather report, either real or emotional (it is gray, though).  It is the first fallback when I am muzzy-headed and sit down without having thought out something the night before.  Weather, though, is important to me, perhaps more so than to others.  But perhaps not.  A friend of mine once wrote that you end up moving back to the weather you grew up with.  That may be true except for retirees.  But I know what he means.  It is Shakespearean, this weather, and there is something to the "sympathetic fallacy" but in reverse. 

If you catch my drift.  And things of that sort.

There is more than one famous writer who lives in my neighborhood.  One of their wives just walked by the window.  She is my age, or maybe a few years younger, and she is beautiful.  As she walked by, I thought that the writer must have written everything because of her.  He wrote to be famous in her eyes.  Another famous writer here dumped his wife for a younger woman.  I'm sure he had to for inspiration.  Heterosexual males write for women, I think, if they are of a certain age. 

I am of that age. 

So sitting here, watching the beautiful inspiration of a woman walk by (but trust me, she is equally beautiful on the inside, too, a truly wonderful person), I thought maybe that is why I am so creatively dead right now.  I need an inspiration, someone to impress, someone to make things for.  I need something to get off the couch for.

Hemingway had a new girl for every novel, they say.  It is fairly true.  When he was forty-nine, after the plane crashes that devastated his health and looks, he fell for a Venetian aristocrat, Adrianna Ivancich.  She was eighteen.   He was foolish, of course, and it made him less happy than more in the end, but he got a novel out of it.  She has written a book about their relationship which she says was more romantic than practical, but she admits she was attracted to him, too.  Who knows what people see when they look through their own eyes?  Sometimes it is hard to see what others do. 

I will spend the rest of this gloomy morning Googling potions and elixirs.  I will seek some inspiration.

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