Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Muse Outside

I spend a lot of time with my back to the computer and its blank screen, staring out my office window. I'm convinced that sitting atop one of the trees in the distance is the becloaked Muse that Zeus assigned to torment me. She is always outside, always in profile, always refusing my invitations. When it's windy outside, she appears be be rocking back and forth, doubled over in laughter. 
So... do you think it's time for me to see someone? A trained specialist? Someone who has dealt with people who see animal shapes and perhaps Abe Lincoln and his stovepipe hat in cloud formations?


  1. I think it's time for you to write a novel about a guy who makes friends with people he sees in trees.

  2. Good idea, Richard. That would be a lot cheaper than therapy.