Muse, as defined by The Cambridge Dictionary:
a person, or an imaginary being or force that gives someone ideas and helps them to write, paint, or make music
I’m partial to “force” as a muse, as I don’t have a muse in the form of a person, or imaginary being (shades of Mary Chase’s rabbit, Harvey).
For me, the force is at play in a window of time during the earlier part of the day. It’s a period when it seems possible that words and drawings will collide to make something of themselves, i.e., a cartoon (the kind of drawing that has a shot at being submitted to The New Yorker). That’s at the heart of what’s fun about this work: the possibility of what might show up on paper.
Sometime in the early afternoon, that window of possibility generally closes. I’ve long assumed that the muse needs to nap. Trying to work on cartoons at this point almost never works, and yet, the drawing continues on for a while. It’s kind of like sitting in a theater after the movie ends and the credits are rolling. You know the show’s over, but you’re not quite ready to leave.
–To the left and below: yesterday’s last drawings of the day. The muse had definitely left the building.
