About Inspiration.
Inspiration is something that can be truly under-appreciated. If you have it, you may not even realize it. You can block out the outside world and create your own personal form of art, faster and more freely than you ever imagined. If you have none, on the other hand; you want to climb the nearest cliff (like your roof or your balcony) and throw your tools of creation to the depths of destruction. The things that make you love the world around you, are turned into heckling strangers, taunting and teasing you until your breaking point.
Inspiration comes from love and interest. Things that intrigue are the things that tend to inspire.
A certain rock star brought a girl that inspired him, on the road. I don't know her name or background, but let’s call her Helen. You see, they aren't romantically involved. But he loves Helen; she inspires him more than anything in the world. His mind is free and open around her, to write all the great songs that he is known for. He would do anything to keep Helen around, so what he did was; he had her trained to run the lighting system. So she now tours with the band and runs the lights. And from what I understand, the entire next album is based on her.
Something about this story struck my interest. You may think it's strange and you're right. But on a creative level, it blew my mind. I guess it's because I've never really had a Helen; someone or something that opens my creative mind. And I'm not just talking about art. Yes art, but I'm also talking about the Helen that makes you thankful to be at your job. The Helen that helps you hang things on your walls because you’re happy with your current life and don't plan on moving.
I hardly take things out of the boxes when I move. I have Rubbermaid containers filled with knick knacks that I would probably trash in a heartbeat if I moved again. My dining room table is a foldable poker table that my mom got at a discount store. If she hadn't of been so kind, I would have stood up in my kitchen to eat every meal. My couch is a broken futon that I rent out to one of my best friends. My bed is a blow up mattress that I just had to patch. The rest of my furniture came from loving friends that felt sorry for me. It is not necessarily because I’ve always been poor either. I just never cared to spend money on those things, because I just thought I’d end up selling them or moving them sometime soon. I’m not depressed by this life, I really am not. I just live in anticipation of one day being content. I try to get the most of this life until I live with my Father in heaven.
Now everyone that knows that I’m a Christian is asking, “What about Jesus? He should make you feel content and at ease.” Well, that’s not necessarily where I’m going with this. I’m not necessarily talking about death, eternity and spiritual living. My faith still exists. I’m talking more about being terrified to mortgage a house because I hate my job. I’m talking about wanting to freely hang up pictures because the walls of my house are something I’ll be seeing for awhile
This week, I had one of the greatest tastes of excitement I’ve had in a very long time. I am such a small part and I’m terrified of the ride ending. Maybe this was my inspiration; maybe it was a tiny bread crumb that will eventually lead me to Helen. Maybe it was none of that. I guess we will see.
