Finding inspiration in any one art is to find it in nature.
A walk in a neighborhood, tuning out all else, the sound of traffic and the barking of dog. And tuning into the Spring time gardens in bloom and the smell after a fresh rain, the Summer time smell of fresh cut grass and the heat of the sun warming your skin, the Autumn colors and crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, the Winter ice storm and smell of fireplaces lit.
And the fallen flower. Especially the bloom that in childhood carried free wishes, summertime childs laughter, and many many memories of summers past. Now there it is, fallen on the ground like the cynicism of adulthood sees all the wishes one made once as a child that never came true.
Yet even in the shadow that we now know exists, the beauty can be found of a fallen flower laying on the ground. I close my eye’s and imagine the sound of my childhood, those wishes I sent into the wind in one big believing and anticipating breath. I remember what was important to me then, what I wished for. And think about what my wishes are for now. I can’t help but to smile, lift that puffy soft boom, and send a wish into the world. Who knows?
I returned home after my walk, a soft lovely image in mind, the shadow brought to light and the light caused only because of shadows exist. That all that grows must fall, but only to grow again in a new season. And that out there my wishes float on air. And here, I remember what was, and is, important to me. Walk returned from, my mind fresh and clear. I sit back to my desk and let the new words flow, as if carried like wishes on air.