"I'll follow you into the dark…"-Death Cab For Cutie

I

Inspiration. We all need inspiration. Whether it's the light bulb over your head or the sheep in your bed, everybody needs something.

Boo! See? I've just inspired something.

Oh come back, I'll try to inspire something better, I promise.

Why, just the other day I was talking with someone else about...what? Anybody? That's right inspiration! What's more, that in turn inspired this post. Lucky you, reaping the benefits of another's inspiration without sowing one seed. It's like my mom used to say:

"You can't steal the corn silk from a sow's purse."

Ok, maybe it's nothing like that. Maybe my mom was just crazy. Sorry, not "crazy," "institutionally inspired."

Whatever, I'll just go with that over-used rippley water analogy: when you chain a witch to a concrete slab and catapult her into the lake, the impact is going to create a wave. Ignore this wave; it means nothing. But, after she sinks like a—well, like the ten-ton heavy thing dragging her into the dark—a small barrage of thought bubbles burble to the surface. Each bubble a little scream begging to be noticed. Each lonely bubble brings a tiny ripple. These ripples are our inspiration. Everybody thank the witch, she's a giver. An inspiration to us all.

MyUnwife used to inspire me. It's true. They were good inspirations too, not the 4am carving knife variety. She didn't wring out poems or anything like that. That wasn't her thing. She did help my novel though. She also inspired CD burning. In the early years I made mix CDs for her. I laid down stuff I thought she'd like. New stuff, old stuff, car stuff, work stuff. Whatever inspiration brought to mind. I don't know how many I made for her. I did it a lot the first few years we were together. She didn't seem to get into it. Maybe I should have gone the poetry route.

Yes I'd love you smothered in jam!

Yes I'd love you with some Spam!

I'll Always love you Pook-you-is!

Yeah, if only all life could be as pure as poetry.

That's ok. I just found other outlets for inspiration. I tried a lot of stuff for her (and not just jam and spam). Some things worked better than others, but that's what motivated people do. They experiment. The successful are called "inspired," the failures are called "mad." I'm telling you the line between "ticker-tape" and "tar and feather" is pretty fine.

I'm willing to take that risk though.

That's what I do. Or did. Now I'm a pig rooting for truffles of inspiration in an abandoned minefield. I found an old roll of film today. I have no idea how old it is, but I'm afraid to have it developed. What if it's all her? What if she's standing in a white gown before a minister professing her love? I'm looking for inspiration, not suicide.

The roll sweats like dynamite. I think I'll just leave it in a cool dry place.

One of the other things we volleyed about, in the inspiration conversation, was the role of the inspirer. My sounding board companion suggested something like "I can't force inspiration." and that brought a new debate on a better word for "force." I think the closest thing I came up with was "deposit." You still can't do it, but it sure would be cool if other people had inspiration slots. You could just slip them some wonder as they passed. Wow! That almost suggests something else. Sorry, I didn't mean to pervert inspiration.

Back on track...you can't deposit inspiration though. The role of muse is more of a passive position. It's not a "Do" role. Greek plays never showed mob boss muses.

"Give him a thought he can't refuse."

I can't muse. Other than passive aggressive, I don't think I have a passive bone in my body.

That explains why I never inspired MyUnwife. I tried, but I don't think I ever did. I don't say that to motivate a "poor Rob." It's not like that. You either inspire them or you don’t. There's nothing I could do either way. It's like apologizing for a blue sky.

I do inspire others though. Just the other day, there was a mob with torches at my door. They said I'd inspired them. They brought a punch bowl of tar and a sack of old pillows. That in turn inspired me to wimpier like a baby. See? More ripples.