Mony and I are sitting here looking at my artwork and I’m laying next to her answering questions about particular pieces… ‘Who’s that?’, ‘What’s that about?’, ‘Why did you do that?’… I have nothing to hide, I’m not at all embarrassed by my work or the why’s, I do wish I had more fantastical stories but there was little in the way of true inspiration. Mediocrity by comparrison to how I am truly inspired today… today and for the last twenty months with Mony.
I never had a muse, never really understood the idea that one can be inspired based simply on the emotions that come with a love so deep and pure, but now I understand… she inspires me. I find I want to be a better person, not just a better artist but a better everything. How can waking on a spring morning and going out to pick her a bouquet of wild flowers not be born of inspiration fueled by love? I never picked anyone flowers… I can barely remember buying flowers, yet I am compelled to pick them for her. That was a first for me, picking flowers… why? Because I want to be the best I can be and while I may not always be a great human being I certainly try my damndest.
There are so many firsts… wildflowers, partnership, subject matter in art, perfectly compatible ideaology and lots of love.
I sit here tapping out this blog as she looks at old emails from me… emails, at least one a day… a first for me. A first that is inspired much like any other first I do… my muse, Mony, inspires me.
Thanks for reading