Calliope tapped Urania’s knee with her pencil and then accidentally dropped it. The pair met underneath the table’s top.
Cal whispered, “Why is Tal getting all of the attention… it’s as if she’s become the favored muse. I’m supposed to be the favorite!”
Nia raised her eyebrows in response. “Really now? Is this a competition, or are we working together? You’ll note Paintist also drew flowers and a bird this morning… which are your domain. Do you see any clocks, calendars, or receipts? And even though I’m not visible in today’s art, I’m there all the same.”
“Yeah but… the dancer is better.” Calliope, who carried forth many of Little Girl Typist’s traits, whined and pouted like a five-year-old.
“Enough!” Nia scolded. “Thalia has waited patiently for her turn to re-emerge. For many of the years between childhood and today, you held up Typist’s good-girl persona while I made sure everything adult-like got done. It is high time we invite and honor play in Typist’s days. We’re not going anywhere, just shifting our roles a bit.”
A word from Typist:
Follow the energy… I participated in a two week sketchbook challenge which offered almost thirty video taped art tutorials. I browsed almost all of them, but only several grabbed me by the sleeve and said, “Try it!” The first was Colorful Portraits, which I am practicing with the trio.
The second was Fluid Dancer.
Outside of a few lessons at my small town’s recreation center in childhood, I’ve never been a dancer, unless you count wedding dance shenanigans, of which I am a huge fan. And yet… I love the idea of Thalia flowing, spinning, and twirling. I’m sorry that I neglected her for so long. What a joy it is, dancing with pencils, paints, and words.
Do you have a Thalia inside of you?
What we carry deep within, if we live honestly, will inevitably be worn outwardly.
The muses are insisting I link two songs here. I'm not sure why...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYPJOCxSUFc (The Boxer, Simon and Garfunkel)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV-Z1YwaOiw (I Hope You Dance, Lee Ann Womack)
I LOVED to dance as a teen and young adult. Then I married a non-dancer, and we had a family and bought an old house, and there went my dancin' shoes. (It's OK--my husband's positive qualities more than make up for his three left feet. Yes, three. At least that's how if felt when he stepped on my foot.) Sadly, neither of us are good about prioritizing fun. This is a good reminder, Gail!