Monday, April 19, 2010
Hitting the Muse in the Face
Sometimes, I feel like I'm hitting the Muse right in the kisser.
I sleep late, I take too long getting my morning chai, I decide it's time to de-cat the guest room, to do the laundry, to practice the piano that I can't even rightly play.
It's procrastination to another level. It's no longer procrastination: it's total slag-slack.
I need to find what is missing in these two poems. The key, the lock, the secret ingredient. I need to pull it apart so I can find you what it's made of, so I can re-make it into what it's supposed to be.
But how to do this? The conundrum of the writer/artist. I keep learning how. And then I forget.
So I have to re-learn.