Thursday, June 11, 2015

At 64, Still A-Mused

At 64, Still A-Mused

By Tom Wachunas

“O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.” - William Shakespeare

    Pictured here is Blue Pas de Deux, a recent work of mine that was accepted into the annual May Show at the Little Art Gallery. Juried shows such as that one, along with the annual Stark County Artists Exhibition at Massillon Museum, are welcomed seasonal lubricators of my creative process. Not being what most folks would consider a highly prolific art maker (beyond writing this blog, perhaps), I nonetheless enjoy throwing the occasional new hat in the ring, so to speak.
   For weeks prior to making the piece, I was a paralyzed captive of my own doubt and anxiety about the direction of my work as a visual artist. I had been seriously questioning my motives, desires, intentions, indeed the very purpose of making art at all. I thought that my muse, who for me, you should know, is Christ, was being evasive if not silent.
   A crossroads? Surely. But as it turns out, it was also an epiphany. One morning I was given a flash of insight from reading in Jeremiah, “…You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.”  The words compelled my surrender to, and renewed gratitude for…my muse. And so the piece speaks of a dance. It’s a lyrical symbol of my faith in an intimate bonding or duet with an eternally loving partner.
   Sadly, I’ve been known to often abandon trust in my Lord’s – my muse’s – words  (to be out of step, as it were) and exile myself for a while to the aforementioned captivity. On this, the occasion of my 64th birthday, and not to be too flippant about my lapses in faith, I offer my re-writing of a few verses from The Beatles’ “When I’m 64.” Dedicated to my muse, here we go. A one, a two, a three, a four:

    I’ve gotten older, still losing hair,… how the years have flown.
Will you still be sending me your valentines, inspirations, just like old times?
If I refuse your well-meaning cues, please don’t be too sore.
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, after I'm sixty-four?

   You'll be older too.
And, if you say the word, I will dance with you.

   …Be in my dreams, give me a sign, stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely, I’m here to stay.
Give me your answer, in legible form, mine forever more…
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, after I'm sixty-four?

    Today I know most certainly that he will. May it be so always.

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