The Muse

I will tell you now, I don’t generally do photo challenges. I don’t know why – I don’t have any special disdain of photos. I suppose it’s because I look at things with a writer’s eye, not a photographer’s eye. When I see something, I find myself composing a description, not a composition.

However, I have decided thanks to this photo challenge that I will try doing the occasional photo, and photo-prompt. I apologize in advance if my photos aren’t technically good. Feedback is always welcome.

Fashion, and walking and interest.
Fashion, and walking and interesting things.

I picked this photo of boots and books – two of my favourite things. These boots have accompanied me on many a walk around the city, to many a job interview (at least the middle red pair, and the black pair have; I don’t think the spiky stabby heels on the left would be suited for optimal comfort when you’re being grilled on yourself and why you should be hired)

They have taken me on hikes – not actual hikes, where you carry a backpack of supplies, but the kind where you mean to go one place and get lost and wind up elsewhere, but you discover interesting things on the way – so I’m kind of invested in them.

The books are a development of my time as an English major and in another life, Classical Studies. I studied both during high school and at some point during university. I’m a book-lover from way back, both reading them and writing them. Reading means you get to experience very many lives, and I feel sad for those who miss out on reading for whatever reason.

Journals, crafts and potential.
Journals, crafts and potential.

I picked this photo because it represents my love of making things. The journals are partly blank, inscribed by my own hand. I could just type everything out onto my computer and call it a day, but the love of beautiful stationery is another one that goes back a long way. Knitting needles are magic, because you can wind on one multicoloured wool, as I’ve got here, or two or three kinds. You can do all sorts of things with knitting, things I don’t even know about. My mum taught me to knit, and patiently unravels rows when I get muddled about what stitch comes next.

What you don’t see in this photo is that I also like to bake – I suppose I’m quite a hands-on sort of person. I like to make things, rather than just buy it all somewhere. There’s determination, I think: when I first tried knit-purl-knit, for instance, I felt like I was stabbing hopelessly at the ball of wool. Something went wrong, at first, and I ended up with twice as many stitches as when I cast on. I kept at it though, and eventually things clicked – pardon the pun. Nowadays, I can sit for an hour and produce neat rows.

Metaphor for life, when you think about it.

There’s also something to be said for doing things by hand. I grew up in the generation where we didn’t all have tablets and cords sprouting out of powerboards – this was when we listened to cassette tapes and walkmen, not iPods and iPads.

Anyway, the second muse I was hoping to capture here is creativity, the force which cobbles pretty sentences into my brain as I’m walking down the road and then won’t let go of them as I come home and sit here to bring you those sentences.

The first one? That was life.

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3 thoughts on “The Muse”

  1. I so enjoyed reading this post. The photos are great and I share your sadness for those who have not had a chance to enjoy literature. Bon weekend!

    Like

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