Creativity is a gift; a thing without shape. It’s the spirit of inspiration. The experiences we acquire throughout life is the flesh, the thing that makes the inspiration real, felt once it’s created. –Melvin Davis
If this blog post burns any bridge between any potential lover and I, aware and unaware, then so be it. When I write, I can’t help but to be candid and honest. It’s what aim for as an aspiring novelist. Whether a writer chooses to disclose what inspires them to write is their choice. I’m a man of empathy: what I love about writing is being able to have a spiritual, intellectual and emotional connection with my readers. I want them to feel what I feel and see what I see whatever it is that I’m writing.
Subliminally, in many of my blogs and poems, except the borderline erotic ones, I’ve hinted to who inspires me to write. Note: the poems I write that are erotic, never comes from a place of lust, but from a place of expressing how I would engage my future wife. But I understand the difficulty for many religious and “holy” people to discard lovemaking, openly, from their conversation. Of course, if I were married, or seriously courting someone or dating, the intimacy of what she and I would share would no be up for entertainment. Lovemaking is a sacred. I totally agree. My borderline erotic poems are sincere creative sacred expressions. Not trash. But back to the point: I never envision expressing myself through words and being this quite transparent. As a child, I was very imaginative and creative. I enjoyed drawing however in my adulthood life, drawing left my creative landscape. Words and images have become my medium from which I express myself artistically but there’s someone I met sometime ago, in addition to studying philosophy and a breakup that really influenced my writing.
There are some people we meet in life that will have a long lasting impact on us. There was a woman I met about two years ago. Instantly I felt something strong about her. She had beauty that extended with balance: physically, intellectually, and spiritually. She had a wonderful personality. All of those things I saw and discerned in her were gathered from conversation. Long story short: If you have read my blogs on being patient for love, seeking your purpose before seeking love, you’ll see where the inspiration from those blogs come from: my impatience and lack of self-love ruined the friendship this special woman and I had.
Since then, a great deal of time had passed. I’m not same person she met two years ago. What still remains the same are the feelings I have for her. Trust me when I say this, and I’ve actually share this with her while we were friends: I tried praying my feelings away because I didn’t have the patience to let whatever was going to unfold, unfold. Yes, I’ve dated other women since then. A good portion I shall say, but not with hopes of getting over her, instead to prove to others and myself that could move on and be open to love coming from someone else. In other words, the world didn’t stop because of what I felt and feel for her. But besides having feelings for her, God tells me to focus Him and writing and to be patient for love. So here I am, single and not involved with anyone.
Since the feelings I have for her continue to stay, subconsciously, my mind and my heart transcends thoughts and feelings for her into art. The height of feeling the way I did and do for her inspires to me write about love because I am still in love with her. In a way, a part of me wonders would I write with such passion, with such transparency and vulnerability. If I were to no longer feel what I feel for her or desire her, would I still write the way I do about love? To be honest, I don’t have an answer for that question. Even when the pain was there, when I couldn’t forgive myself for my mistakes, I still wrote with passion. It’s interesting how when our friendship ended, I began writing my novel and going through my personal and spiritual transformation that was need to mold and shape a better me.
I will not say her name out of respect and for her privacy; she is the inspiration behind my writing. In fact, my love for her inspired me to write poetry. The first poem I ever wrote was, This is What She Do Me. I gave her this poem and she enjoyed. Said she would frame it. That feeling felt good, but what really touched me was that she appreciated the words I used to paint a picture of how I perceived and felt about her. I believe any artist would like to have their work understood, felt and appreciated.
I don’t know how this feeling for her would last or would change if I met someone else. Either way, I’d still write with passion and vigor. So until then, I’m going to harness all the inspiration I can about her to paint portraits with words.