Music of the Muse -- Maelstrom

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Subject: Music of the Muse

Author:
Paris

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Date Posted: 11:02:39 02/07/01 Wed
Author Host/IP: NoHost/165.29.41.2

MUSIC OF THE MUSE
BY: STEVEN HARVEY

RECENTLY I CRACKED THE spine of Virginia Woolf�s A Room of One�s Own. I read some of it. Not all. What intrigued me the most was not the writing; not the way she expertly described her surroundings, but the picture on the cover.
It was a room, blurred, empty, perhaps a curtain blowing in the wind, a lone chair sat in the room, off to one wall. I sat myself in that chair, pretending as though I was in the room with the curtain, a room of one�s own. Not necessarily my own, but one�s own. I pondered what the room was for. Deep thoughts? Ravings? Crying? What did the one do here?
I looked at the cover of this book for a good thirty minutes, contemplating it to no end.
I heard the sacred voices we all cherish�the poetic wonders that visit us from time to time. Perhaps it is the music of the muse; a daily reminder that we are what we were made from. That we all must have a place to retire so as we can wrestle with turmoil, put ourselves into a dwelling that houses emotions. We have empty windows to fill, canvases to paint, notebooks to fill with musings and wonders. There is no good way to end this essay about and essay, so I�m going to end it here.

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Replies:

Subject	Author	Date
Re: Music of the Muse	TRJ	08:01:53 02/08/01 Thu