Content
Event Booking
Web Links
Contacts
Tags
Categories
News Feeds
Search - K2

Well, this may seem humorous to you, but it is a true tale.

 

There I was, just minding my own business, and it hit. Well, maybe there was more to it than that, so I had better start at the beginning. It was the attack of the Muse of Enlightening, and it was amazing…

 

It all started at a workshop in Canada, on Vancouver Island, at Cowachan Lake. I had gone in hopes of breaking through a creative block I had formed around my first piece of chlorite. It was an unassuming rock of about 25 pounds. I was sure that I had seen something in it when I had purchased it 9 months earlier, but now it had become a deaf-mute, or else I had lost my ability to hear or understand the language it was speaking. I mean really, it just lay there on the worktable in the middle of these glorious trees, a stone’s throw from a delightful lake, and there was nothing. Well, just a lot of unintelligent screams. It must have been loud because most everyone came by and asked me what I had planned to do with “that rock” which sat in the grass where I had tossed it in a fit of despair.

 

It lurked there for days. I worked on other stones. They must not have amounted to much as I have no memory of what I did. I frolicked with my friends in the lake. We ate very good food and watched a solar eclipse. I wandered around, visited with friends and made new ones. I worked very hard at not seeing that stone lying there writhing in frustration. I bought new stone in an unsuccessful attempt to move on.

 

It had gotten bad. I was eating less and less. I spent more time in the sauna than was good for me. There was definitely the beginning of a subtle shriveling of the skin. I over-bid at the auction: that may not have been the stone’s fault. The weekend was almost over and there was still nothing. I was going to be taking that stone home with tool marks all over it and not an idea in sight.

 

It was the morning of the last day. We would be breaking down at noon so there were a few hours to go and I was frantic. I plugged in my angle grinder and put in a simple masonry blade, the one that had come with the tool. It was a last ditch effort. I had already tried all the fancy bits and blades that I had purchased from Andrew. I donned my safety gear and pulled on my gloves. There was a glimmer from the stone as I approached.

 

The tool touched the stone, the dust flew, and a sound seemed to emanate from that stone. It had a whirling beat and catchy tune. I was caught up in the excitement of that song. A breeze seemed to spring up from nowhere. There was a zing in the air like there was a magic spell being cast and I was in the middle of it. The dust danced around my head, and my friends gathered around. When next I was aware, I was dancing around the table with the angle grinder in my hands: the piece was practically ready for finish sanding. I had been running and spinning around that piece like a whirling dervish without a stumble or trip on the many cords and hoses that surrounded me, oblivious to their threat. The music was still humming in my head but the frenzy had eased.

 

As the dust settled I looked at what had been created. I have never been as pleased with a sculpture as I was at that moment. I had gotten there, I had given birth to something beyond what I had hoped for, and I was elated. I cannot remember packing up. That piece was the last thing in the car and it seemed to hum a happy little tune to me all the way home.

 

I had met the Enlightning muse, the one that often comes like a lightning strike. We all know that a lightning strike can be dangerous, but this one often gets you all charged up with a vision, and the energy to make it so. She is the most elusive of the muse tribe. As you can see from the description of my experience it can be quite dangerous. But, the rewards are incredible. Now, this is not a muse that you can will into existence. It is also the one, if you’re not careful, that may leave you without fingers or toes. I believe that I was not injured in this experience because I try to wear appropriate safety gear all the time so that when the attack came I was ready.

 

I have since had experiences with many forms of the muse tribe, but that elusive Enlightening muse has not been back. She left a legacy on which I try to draw, and the faith and hope that at sometime in the future, when I really need her, she will be back. I find that many of you are hoping to have a similar adventure.

I must remember to wear my gloves and dust mask and such to be prepared for the next meeting. I have grown quite fond of my fingers and toes.