Breaking News: My Muse Is A Pain In The Ass

MY MUSE3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From a deep peaceful sleep, I awoke surprised to find,

I had my muse on my mind.

I’m speaking of She who calls herself Shirley…. Alas.

Let’s be quite clear about this from the start: My Muse is a pain in the Ass.

 

Speaking candidly – with no punches pulled, without embellishment,

as any artist Might.

I want to understand her, to get her Right.

Why would my muse declare herself to be average? Not only average but Average-ish.

No one aspires to average; why waste a Wish?

 

If you don’t know it – then know it now – every artist, in accordance

with Greek Mythology, is entitled to one muse – and only one – per

lifetime to inspire the artist. Ergo, no artist would accept a muse who

is – or perceives herself as – run-of-the-mill-ish;

you know, Average-ish.

I hope I’m being clear about This.

My Muse is a pain in the Ass.

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One ought not underestimate the influence of a good muse. Someone

once said, “Only Fools rush in where wise men fear to tread.” Not

True. Not True.

Muses always Do.

When a critic opines negatively upon an artist’s work, concluding it to

be, at best, a Work-in-Progress-Disaster,

it’s the Muse to the rescue, filling air and artist’s ear with, “No, no, no.

You are a Master.”

 

My muse – Shirley – too often asks rhetorically about

herself, “What do I do Well;

I mean, at what, if anything, do I Excel?”

I don’t get it. Never will. My insisting, “It ain’t so,”

changes not the status quo.

Reluctantly, I give up. I Surrender,

But first, I dare you to deny that this is all about Gender.

 

Every man, any man, would never depreciate or diminish himself so.

This we Know.

Were my muse a Man,

He’d be all about himself, boasting, “I can do anything. Yes I can, yes I Can.”

But Women, some, not all, self-deprecate, seeing less, making less of

the sum of their Parts.

Is this not the product of centuries-old practiced or feigned

subservience, of hiding larger hearts, and greater Smarts?

 

The Oxford English Dictionary defines (or so it should) “Shirley-ish“, a noun, as, “1. that which never gives up on anyone;  that which is integral to the creative process; is a lover of art and artists and whatever they might Create.”

But  Wait.

The Dictionary includes a second meaning – a bit shocking, I admit,

and a bit Crass –

It says – I swear it does – 2. Shirley-ish denotes a muse who is a pain in the Ass.

 

QED. It must be so. Who’d challenge the Oxford English Dictionary?

Not Me. Its reputation too Legendary.

But still I’d add a third meaning; Shirley-ish as a verb: “3. to be Shirley-ished is be blessed with the kind of a friend, that most mere mortals only dream about.”

 

Lucky Me,

Lucky her friends and family,

Lucky Jim Lee, whoever he may be.

 

One closing uncontrovertible truth about my Muse:

If her vision and confidence that this world stripped from her were

restored, she’d be the artist, not the muse.

Until that day arrives, a better me will remember to Be

to her – what she is to Me.