I’ve always advocated finding inspiration in little things, odd things, unique things and not so obvious things. Basically I’ve always believed one can find inspiration in what is new or different to them. Then today I found my muse reacting in a not so offbeat place.
Okay, that’s a half truth. I went to an Art’s Festival in my city on Saturday. Obviously there was some pretty unique and off the wall stuff. Creativity abounded. Being that I write and live more in the made up places in my head than reality, this place clearly should have an effect on me. I enjoy going to shows like this one and try to attend any and all that come my way. So it’s not really new or different to me.
Except it is. There are always new painters, authors, bakers, woodworkers, sculptors of every variety, jewelry makers, glass blowers, and photographers. So each show I go to is only somewhat like the last.
I feel at home at things like this and I should expect to be inspired by them and their work. Except I didn’t.
I went in wanting to find some cool stuff. I’ve been unable to write for over a month, with a little peekaboo from my muse here and there for the last couple of weeks. I know I’m slowly getting back to normal but bursts of writing ideas have been few and far between. I had zero expectations.
So I walked into the main exhibit hall and had to stand still for a few moments. There was something in the air. It was like creativity was exuding from all these people and hovering around waiting to be embraced.
Time lost meaning and I wandered from booth to booth in a haze of…something good. I don’t know how to explain it but I know I liked it.
The various artists must have sensed it because most simply said hello and left me alone. My eyes were on their wares but I noticed those knowing smiles. Not one tried to sell me anything until I walked through a second time. Then I was a little embarrassed because several brought up how I’d looked the first time they saw me.
One lady said she could tell she wouldn’t be able to reach me and another said she was afraid to break the spell I was under. A photographer said he’d been the same way earlier in the morning when everyone was setting up and he checked out his competition. All awkwardness fled and I kept wandering and chatting. I must have walked through each booth (almost two hundred of them) seven or eight times.
I spent more money than I planned to but not more than I should have. My husband and I are going back today so I will
probably end up with more stuff.
When I went on Saturday it was because between recovering from back surgery and the stupid neuropathy in my left toes I was afraid I wouldn’t make in through the whole thing in one day. I always have to walk through a million times while trying to talk myself out of buying things I know I’m going to end up getting anyway.
If I’m honest with myself I’ll admit I don’t really need to go back today. I overdid it yesterday but I did manage to see everything. The practical side (which is minor) of me says stay home and rest and save money. The rest of me says screw it, this thing is only once a year and I know damn well there are at least three more (big) things I want.
In all fairness my husband loves art and didn’t get to go on Saturday and we’re taking a friend I haven’t seen since my surgery with us. So practical me can shut it. I’ll post pictures of my goodies soon.
Hopefully the inspiration will keep coming. Now I’m afraid I expect too much!
Sidenote: I always gripe about not being able to write but I’ve noticed the last few non-regular posts have been lengthy. I’ll stop complaining soon but I still miss fiction.