I haven't had much to say by way of posts lately. Partially that's because I'm lazy. Partially that's because it's over 110F here, and I'm pretty drained. In truth, it's because I lost my muse, and I don't care so much about anything any more.
Most famous art, whether you like it or not, was inspired by something or someone. Most of the things people do, they do to obtain attention from or draw attention to that person or thing. It's called a muse, and it's the audience of many songs, the model of many paintings, and the impetus behind many actions. Sometimes, the muse isn't virtuous. Some men do things because a king leads them, because they are bored, because someone promises them money or fame, or because they simply feel like it. Sometimes it's motivated by a person, and when that person leaves, some time passes before we find a muse to motivate us to keep up with our art.
I first noticed the change last fall. I didn't really register it until March of this year, when I suddenly cared a lot less about whether or not I ever saw my muse again. When I realized that she didn't really exist anymore, that was the end. The person I miss no longer really exists. She decided to walk a path that renders the woman I knew incongruous with her choices. Now that the person I miss cannot really return, I find myself without much motivation to care especially about anything. I don't care about anything. I don't value anything. Sure, I'm not going to change my opinions or be silenced, but I'm also not really motivated to stick out my neck for anything or anyone in particular.
Today I watched coworkers slink out of work early. I don't really know why. I know most of them just sat at home in the air conditioning. I don't know why they are working and why they leave work when I know that they don't really have anything about which they are passionate. Last night, I watched "Operation Petticoat" and when the nurses come aboard the Sea Tiger, the men comment on how they finally know why they are fighting. i have everything i really want. My only friend moved to Ohio, and I think I might be settling into my "mid life crisis", if I'm going to have one, but I really don't care enough to change my clothes, my car, or anything about my life. I just don't have anything about which to care.
There are some posts in the drafts section, but I am holding off on them because they are either cynical or political, and both of those things create negative feelings and emotions. I wanted this blog to be a place of inspiration and hope, to show how I overcame obstacles and forged ahead, but I find myself mostly working off my keester just to maintain the status quo. I will continue to say what I really think and be who I really am, but I'm becoming more Don Quixote than I like, as much as I admire the character, and that concerns me.
For the next few weeks, I'm engrossed in a research project. It will keep me busy during the day. Even the campus locksmith acknowledged today that she doesn't see me much. I'm off campus for a few hours every MWF, and then I'm stuck in the instrument room for a couple more. It's all very exciting. Maybe afterwards I'll feel like writing again and find something about which I feel strongly to write.
