I’ve had my muse a long time, she is a beautiful statute from an unknown place, I got her at an antique shop. I don’t know how old she is or where she came from.
I am loyal to her, she has seen me through a lot of books. She will be with me for as long as I write. But there is a distance between us lately, ever since I stopped writing so many books.
She is nameless, but I always thought of her as a book muse, not really a blog muse. She will always have a home with me, but I wonder if our relationship isn’t evolving. Muses have a particular energy that I draw from and at the moment, and at the moment, I keep looking over at Froggy, who occupies an entire corner of my study to the left of my computer.
I’m getting good and creative vibes these days from Froggy The Magic Gremlin, the warped and sadistic giant frog on TV in the 1950s and ’60s. You can meet him on YouTube.
I loved Froggy when I was a kid, he was on the Andy Devine Show, along with Gunga Din. In those days, entertainment wasn’t generally considered news, so there are no newspaper stories about Froggy.
I think the problem is that my regular muse is a literary muse, something of a snob. I needed that when I was writing books.
Blogs are different. Froggy, who was irreverent, unpredictable, and devious, seems more of a blog muse to me, a muse for right now. He loved to torment the powerful and the rich, making them look ridiculous whenever he could.
He was funny and strange, and always getting into trouble, especially when he “twanked his Magic Twanger,” something no TV character could get away with talking about today.
I stumbled across Froggy in Jack’s Outback Antiques and Collectibles shop on Main Street. Jack wasn’t sure what to make of Froggy, but I sure was. I recognized him right away. He and I spent many Saturday mornings today, those dumb TV shows meant a lot to me.
Froggy came right home with me.
My nameless muse is important to me, she’ll stay in sight on the edge of my big wooden London Banker’s Desk. These things ebb and flow. For now, I look over to Froggy, who’s on the left side of my desk, and I smile and feel as if I get a lift from. him
I remember Froggy very well. That was before tv when we developed our imaginations with sound only. We had vey old radio console that I curled up to and listened to all those magical stories…clean stories! Love you, Jon. Kathy from just outside Syracuse, NY. Btw, we have any refugees here in the Syracuse area that are also very needy, but anxious for a new life. It changed with the Federal administration (you know who) when our agencies could not accept new foreigners.
Oh Jon! The minute I saw him I thought: “He’s a Froggy Buddha!”
A brilliant muse to have for calming you down when you’ve so many things going on in your life, helping you deal with the difficult readers when they’re particularly irritating you and, when you falter, lifting you up where you belong – doing such a fantastic job of helping others. I’m glad you’re keeping your ‘book muse’ too though – perhaps she’d just love to help you with your photography. Not that you need any help – your photos are . . . well, see below.
My current painting muse is Monet – I try to chanel him, Matisse and sometimes if I’m feeling strong enough, Picasso, when I need help with a new painting. You are my muse with your photos – sometimes the light and love in one will take my breath away and get me painting straightaway to let joy flow and share it with others. Have you seen the film Maudie? Like me – she didn’t care about the money, much as she needed it – she painted for joy and to share the joy. Yes! And Maria sets me free and inspires me to paint whatever I like and be true to myself and at the same time find beauty and joy along the way . . . again to share with anyone who happens to like my paintings.
I also have a life muse – a statue of one of the Inca children who were taken up the mountain at 2 years old and left to die there as sacrifices. They were all given a treasure to take with them on their journey from this life and hers a little gold horse she clasps in her hands behind her back. If ever I’m feeling a bit low she reminds me how lucky we are to live in countries where we are safe from such harm, and how we must – like you – keep fighting for equal rights for everyone, whatever age, colour, race – and tread this world stoically, trying to harm no one and as much as we can stretching out a hand of help. Love to you both, Jenny