Last year I had the chance to spend weekend at Singapore’s Writers Festival and it was truly an experience like no other. To sit in the midst of people who appreciate the craft of the written world as much as you do is simply inspiring.
In some cases, these people that I bump into, they are not regular people. They are my “people” who has successfully become an established group of my kind of “people”; writers, poets, essayist and literary visionaries. And from all they have described as to how they eventually get to the place that I believe I would one day want to get to, they have one thing in common: disciplined muse.
I am yet to learn the art of disciplining my muse, for as therapeutic, fulfilling and addicting writing can be, the process of curating your thoughts from the most outside of its layers to the deepest parts is, without a doubt, one of the most tiring and frustrating process one could imagine. The way I see it, muse is the catalyst that helps this process, of breaking the layers and revealing what’s truly screaming out from the deep layers.
What’s all the more interesting is that as powerful as muse can be as a catalyst, this muse can somewhat be directed and practiced, everyday. Because I don’t believe that our imaginations have times when they stop working and times when they do work very well to exploit ideas beyond the borders of possibilities. I believe that our creative energies are constantly at work. However, having said that, tuning into this scope of mind is a different subject. It requires determination and focus. It requires effort and a relentless pursuit.
I don’t believe that this is what makes a writer, a writer. Being a writer is an identity, a state of heart. But I believe that this is what makes a writer published, known, finally having a voice in this loud world that they can call their own.