#BlogFlash2012: The #Native Muse
Blog Flash 2012
A Different World
"Native Muse"
She watches earnestly with wisdom, this Native American woman on my desktop wallpaper. Guarding my writings and photography, she beckons the writer within me. I heed her call. What wonders will she take me to today? Shall we ride the plains with the Blackfeet or Sioux? Or dance with the Shawnee around the great campfire? Follow the Navajo sheepherders? Or fish with the great Pacific tribes?
Words spread across my Microsoft Word. Images of lands far away, people, creatures and ideas foreign to my fast paced, computerized world Yet familiar to her. A moment becomes a day. Lost in time, I forget the keys under my fingers. Paragraphs become reality. I lose myself in the plot. Suspense, history, romance and danger await me.
Her world transforms my thoughts. No longer am I the writer, I actively take part in her story. Her ideas and speech create emotions I’d never felt before.
The land, the people, and the ideas they’re so real. Her story becomes my own. I want to press on. I have to know more. She guides me through her story only to release me into my own reality.
I lean back from my computer, released from my creative endeavor. My Native American muse sits quietly upon my desktop wallpaper, with a stare towards me. Her secret journey my own, given to those who dare to read.
"Native Muse"
She watches earnestly with wisdom, this Native American woman on my desktop wallpaper. Guarding my writings and photography, she beckons the writer within me. I heed her call. What wonders will she take me to today? Shall we ride the plains with the Blackfeet or Sioux? Or dance with the Shawnee around the great campfire? Follow the Navajo sheepherders? Or fish with the great Pacific tribes?
Words spread across my Microsoft Word. Images of lands far away, people, creatures and ideas foreign to my fast paced, computerized world Yet familiar to her. A moment becomes a day. Lost in time, I forget the keys under my fingers. Paragraphs become reality. I lose myself in the plot. Suspense, history, romance and danger await me.
Her world transforms my thoughts. No longer am I the writer, I actively take part in her story. Her ideas and speech create emotions I’d never felt before.
The land, the people, and the ideas they’re so real. Her story becomes my own. I want to press on. I have to know more. She guides me through her story only to release me into my own reality.
I lean back from my computer, released from my creative endeavor. My Native American muse sits quietly upon my desktop wallpaper, with a stare towards me. Her secret journey my own, given to those who dare to read.
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