The Muse

Spoke very little when I was young…..because I stuttered.  Vocals functioned only when I sang.  Dreams of being a singer died the day I woke up unable to carry a tune.  Mom sought out specialists.  Was her idea to offer me a new voice in the form of a blank diary, when all else failed.

Street Art 9 Photograph by Blue Muse Fine Arts

My love for music comes from her side.  She played Beethoven to my brother in the womb; likely is responsible for his adoration of classical music.  Think my Grandpa may have played the fiddle.  His mother was affluent on the harp, so much so she was approached dozens of times about world tours.  Wanted a family more than she wanted fame.  I am particularly fond of the violin and piano. 

Music is a huge part of my life…..especially during times when I’m needing to feed and nourish my soul.  This period was no different……except the songs I usually sought, brought me no comfort.  Those that did, proved to be far more significant and influential to my current state and situation… John Legend‘s “All Of Me“.

You’re my downfall.  You’re my MUSE.  My worst distraction.  And rhythm and blues.
~John Legend

Songs get stuck in my head as they do for everyone…….but I know when it’s something more by certain emphases.  Mom‘s the only one who would communicate with me in this way…..perhaps because she knows I’m more apt to listen if there’s a tune.

Heard the phrase, “You’re my downfall.  You’re my MUSE.  My worst distraction.  And rhythm and blues.” at least 500,000 times…….seemingly in connection to Jonathan…… before I asked myself the question, “Is Mom trying to tell me ‘Jonathan Scott‘ is to be my MUSE?”.  The lyrics continuously looping in my head just suddenly stopped; first time in weeks.  Didn’t challenge any of this information because I was in shock, but as long as there was no argument from me everything remained silent.  The moment I thought, ” Like FRICKIN’ HELL!“, the lines returned with a vengeance.

If this was a ploy to meet the Property Brothers, I could have saved myself alot of time and energy by dropping a half million dollars with a note saying, “Let’s meet!”.  Even if these guys weren’t corruptible, they’d have agreed to a rendezvous out of curiosity……if nothing else than to see and learn about the “crazy woman”. 

This was not about meeting these guys; it was about something a whole lot more.  To have “chosen” a public figure to be my “source of inspiration” meant she wanted me to write…..for all the world to see.  To have given me a muse at all was her way of saying, “You have to write again.” something I vowed never to do after my last one used my own words against me to tear apart my family.  We remain divided. 

Saddling me to a man with “money” and “power” is what irritated me most.  It opened wounds connected to two rich and powerful men I loved……about not being enough.  My love was not enough to inspire them to want to make better choices; be better men.  Everything I gave was not enough to earn equality in their eyes.  Was locked in a gilded cage a top an ivory tower, presumably for my own protection…..but I never felt protected.  Jonathan Silver Scott is a man of the world.  So too was my best friend. 

Us Weekly

There’s something else; something that affects the very core of my being.  My one and only muse was not chosen by some “higher power” for me.  He inspired me most because I came to trust him unlike any other.  I trusted him with my life……and he repaid me by violating me.  Mom wanted me to trust Jonathan Scott; to put my life in his hands, essentially.  There was no way I would ever trust anyone like that again…..least of all some dude I did not know, had no relations with, and who might as well have been a paper doll to me.  This time she was asking too much.

I resisted this nonsense……until the music reached Guantanamo Bay levels of torture.  Had she just declared Scott McGillvray my new muse, I would not have fought her on the issue…..but no, seemed only a Property Brother could do the job.  Actually tried negotiating for Drew, to no avail.  Hated the idea of being aligned to Jonathan……..of people questioning my motives and reasons simply because he’s rich, famous, and SINGLE.  I’m all of these too! 
Okay.  My infamy might not be as grand as his…….but I do have that second-coming virginal thing.  In no way can he claim to be a virgin believably.  Doesn’t that buy me some brownie points? 

Didn’t matter what my arguments were.  Knew she wasn’t gonna’ give me a moment’s peace until I agreed.  Didn’t know how I would go about accomplishing whatever she intended for me, but if Mom wanted me to take Jonathan along for a ride…….so be it.  Jonathan Scott was now my new muse! 

Hope to God everyday that man has a great sense of humour.     


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