I’m often asked a series of questions that revolve around my muse and how my prose poems and books come into being. Over the course of the next several weeks, I’m going to shed some light on them in hopes that you’ll see a little deeper into who I am and all that I do.
If you find that the question of the week stirs your mind, feel free to comment with your own thoughts, or answer it for yourself. If you do the latter, be sure to link back to me so I can see it.
How does it feel when your muse runs his fingers through your hair, resting his palms bare on your crown?
My muse is androgynous, taking on the form of whatever is necessary to fulfill the task. But when it comes out, it’s a rather strange feeling. It’s like my intrusive thoughts cease and words from another mind begin to form in response to some form of stimulation (one or more of the five senses, sometimes including synaesthesia).
In terms of poetry, I try to ensnare one moment and throw as much authentic feeling (including those senses) into it as I can.
When I’m writing my fiction, I transcend myself and become whoever it is I’m narrating. As they go about their lives, my goal is to transcribe those events in as much detail as possible.
In doing so, I’m able to breathe. Because it’s both freeing and relaxing. And that’s something I can’t live without.
Until next time,
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