la muse
the muse
Did you ever see the movie Xanadu? I must have been about 8 years old when I first saw it and while I was probably a bit young, it was the 80’s and the days of scheduled analog television. Quelle horreur! I’ll cut my parents some slack here and instead thank them for allowing me (or neglecting me just enough) to fuel my film watching enthusiasm. I was as much of a cinephile as I possibly could be. Anything musical, anything European and absolutely anything about love.
The magic of Xanadu for me, apart from the roller-skates and ribbon braided hair, was the idea of ‘the muse’. That mural on the wall in the movie of The Nine Muses of Olympus, Kira’s real identity as Terpsichore - Goddess of Dance and Chorus, and Sonny’s general confusion and disbelief in himself, were like tunnel lights leading me towards understanding creativity separately to curiosity and the wonder of childhood exploration.
What is a muse?
Why would I ever need one?
And why as a young child, did I already sense it’s presence and absence?
More recently, I have felt the breath of her all around me. Only a soft breath though. There hasn’t been a full conversation or embodiment. A bit like when Sonny says '“Guys like me shouldn’t dream anyway…”, the absence of the muse can leave me lost and almost bereft, but I’m feeling her near. The infuriating thing is still my question of why? Also, I want to ask, ‘Where do you go?’.
Why is this constant and direct communion with inspiration interrupted as we age? How do we connect with our inner child when the weight of adulthood and responsibilities bear down on us? What is our inner child? Is it our soul?
All the cosmic questions rise up like a geyser from here.
A very creative friend and earthly muse, amidst an international relocation, recently asked the question “How do you have time?” and then went on to say, “I have no time. Actually, I don’t understand what time is anymore. What is time?”.
I don’t understand time anymore either but, time is most certainly tied to the muse, as it is to the child and the adult. For all the time life wrestles from us, we must wrestle it back for the muse. To allow her breath to settle and reach us in it’s sighs, pants and sharp inhalations.
I am in the wrestle phase, trying to make space and time for her. Maybe I am feeling the breath of Melete, one of the original three Boeotian Muses who pre-date the Nine Muses of Olympus as in Xanadu. Melete was the muse of thought and meditation, ponder and contemplation.
Maybe I need to watch Xanadu again tonight, or perhaps the movie was the beginning of my own journey to believe, or not to believe in myself, my ideas and abilities.Lucky for me, this is a space to experiment.
“You have to believe we are magic.”
~ lyrics from the song ‘Magic’ by Olivia Newton-John
Vale Olivia Newton-John
The mural of The Nine Muses of Olympus from the movie Xanadu starring Olivia Newton-John as Kira.
