I went to a group visual arts show last weekend. My good friend runs an organization that was one of the galleries invited to present a few artists. When I arrived, my good friend was speaking with my new artist crush, Nick Dong. Just to confuse him, I walked up to them and hugged Nick as I knew it would surprise my friend that I already knew him.
I fall for some artists through their work. I am impressed, a little intimidated, and have profound respect for craft, rigor, and conceptual completeness. I am looking for an experience when I view any kind of art, and when someone’s work truly transports me, I am in awe.
Nick's sculptural works are little worlds. He is a jeweler, works with electricity and subtle mechanizations, sound, and his themes explore aspects of consciousness and the search for elevated states of being. They are modern-day treasures. Mythical, poetic, and precious stories in physical form.
When reflecting on his work after the show, I thought, ‘his muse lives in a fortress.’ He serves his muse with such dedication - a palpable oath. His muse isn’t getting the scraps of his life. His muse is getting the best of everything. Diamonds. As a knight, Nick flourishes in this committed relationship with his muse.
I recently took a traveler into the forest for a deep dive into a Creative Journey. I know this traveler as an obvious artist who works in a commercial creative field. But his muse has been squeezed. He has not listened to it for a long time. This is very painful. Honoring the muse is honoring the self.
During the journey, the traveler made fists…holding on. Trying not to let everything he knew to be true melt. The strength of his grip was intense. He was holding life, his construct, his understanding of the world, so very tightly.
What chance did the muse have to exist, let alone flourish, in this death grip?
After the journey, we set about thanking the power of the grip for keeping him safe even though it wasn’t so necessary anymore, releasing this grip, and making room for the muse to breathe. What would his muse become? What space will he afford his muse in his life? Will he honor his muse with a garden, a simple house, or one day a mansion? Will he feed his muse sparks of inspiration from cultural events or relationships with those who inspire? Will he give his muse his quiet attention while he washes the dishes?
Offering your muse a lot of space doesn’t necessarily result in a professional career as an artist. It could result in a rich inner life and a deep inner peace. It could result in a parent who is especially present with their kids or a friend who creates and nurtures a community around herself wherever she goes. It could result in a founder who builds a company with a clear vision and consults with their muse regularly to support good decision-making. Like any relationship, it is dynamic and needs tending.
My muse lives in a garden. I spend time with it. I notice things. I listen. I plant seeds and wait to see what emerges. I listen for the hum. I know I am with my muse when my soul is at peace. Ah so.
And one day I notice, there is something where there once was nothing.