“MUSE”

“Muse” is a funny word…

It’s one of those that everyone defines differently—

a spectrum of meanings shaped by experience, bias, and desire.

For some, it’s a spark.

For others, it’s a mask,

a justification cloaked in artistry.



The word carries weight,

used to elevate or reduce,

to celebrate or control.



For years, I wrestled with it—

what it meant, what it should mean,

what it meant to me.

Could I embrace the truth of inspiration

without falling into the trap

of giving too much power to the external?




I’d seen it happen:

People romanticizing the muse as a person,

often a woman,

and reducing her to a role,

an ideal,

an object of projection




It’s easy to misunderstand the muse,

to place her on a pedestal

and strip her of her humanity.

To make her your excuse,

your dependency,

your crutch.




But that’s not inspiration.

That’s extraction.





When we pedestalize the muse,

we externalize our power.

We say, I can only create because of you

And in doing so, we give away

the ownership of our creativity.





Then I came across Stephen Pressfield,

his take on the muse not as a person,

but as a force—divine, unseen,

yet responsive to the discipline of the artist.





He called it a collaboration:

You bring the work; the muse brings the spark.

But only if you show up.






“The muse favors the working stiffs,”

he said,

and something clicked

The muse isn’t in a person.

It’s not in the places I’ve been

or the things I’ve seen.

Those are conduits,

tools that open the door.





The muse lives in the process,

the act of showing up,

of doing the work even when it feels empty.

It’s earned, not given






So, what does “muse” mean to me now?

It’s the rhythm in the chaos,

the quiet voice that answers

only when I sit in the chair

and begin.



It’s not someone else’s approval,

not a location or a fleeting romance.

It’s a relationship with creativity itself—

a force bigger than me

that asks only for my presence.







But here’s the truth:

Inspiration can come from anywhere.

From people, places, moments.

It’s okay to feel moved by a person,

to honor their impact on your work.

But don’t mistake the spark for the source.



The muse isn’t them

It’s not even you

It’s the space you create when you respect the process.

So ask yourself:

Are you connecting with the muse,

or are you tethered to an illusion?

Are you seeking inspiration,

or are you searching for permission?



Because the muse doesn’t give permission.

It doesn’t wait for you to feel ready.

It’s already there,

waiting for you to sit down,

to show up,

to begin.

Previous
Previous

“33”

Next
Next

“MY ART IS MOST OFTEN CREATED…”