Sherri Cornelius

It was a beautiful weekend here in Blossomland. Perfect church-going weather. That’s right, CHURCH. My brother Wopsle, in a move to be closer to home, took a job as youth pastor at Westmoore Community Church, and I went to check out his new digs and have lunch with the family. (Not linking because I don’t want to embarrass him, but you can google it.)

It’s the coolest church I’ve ever been to, with its sneaker dress code and live rock band. One of their worship songs is “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran, tweaked just a little to make it relevant. So, yeah. It’s a cool church. Wopsle will fit in well there.

And I’d love to be a part of that community, except I’m more of a Buddhist than a Christian, viewing Jesus as a great and enlightened teacher rather than a solitary savior of mankind. So I don’t know how genuine it would be of me to go to church and have no interest in the doctrine, even though I have no doubt they would accept me.

After church we went to Mazzio’s, Wopsle and his wife, my mom and her passel, and me. I’m so excited that my brother will be a regular part of my life again.

I’ll end with a shout-out to my SIL Amy, even though she probably won’t see it. Happy birthday, Amy!

• Much stuff happened this weekend, but none of it involved getting a new vehicle. Looks like I’m homebound for another week.
• If you haven’t been over to my new blog lately, you should go by and check it out. The latest post is a guest article from my blog buddy (and published author) Sarah Stockton, who gives advice on how to work through negative messages.
• My oldest went to her first school dance. 6th grade seems a little young, but they treated it as a sort of masquerade, with prizes for the best costumes. She wore a fancy dress and a boa and big, blingy sunglasses and went as a starlet. I made her hair into a Veronica Lake and let her wear eyeliner and red lipstick. She got so many compliments that now she expects to be able to wear eyeliner every day. Um, no.
• Our kitty cat disappeared Thursday, and we found her on Saturday—in a hollow log where she had died. Getting her out of the log took some doing, but finally we buried her in the pet cemetery with Marmalade and Slippers. I was glad we at least knew what had happened to her, but I’m sad that we put her at risk by adopting her as a kitten. I thought the curse of the Yard of Death was over, but apparently not.
• My latest obsession is personality typing.
• I haven’t felt much like Internetting, but a lot like writing. All my creative energy is going to the new blog and the new novel, and I have very little to spend on others’ blogs, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a little spare in my commenting.

My little experiment with You Are the Muse on Thursdays hasn’t really worked. Originally I thought YAtM needed its own space, but I was too afraid to give that level of commitment when I didn’t even know if I could sustain it for a long period of time, so I left it here to see how I would do. Several weeks later, YAtM grew legs and walked out into the world.

I’m happy to announce my new blog, You Are the Muse. I’ve moved the YAtM posts from here to there and added a couple since, while I waited for the right time to tell you about it. Everything about this is different from anything I’ve ever tried before. It might not be an original concept, might not even be very important in the grand scheme of things. It might not turn into anything at all, ever, just me pissin’ in the wind here. (Hard for a lady, but not impossible. ;) I might not ever finish, but it’s asking me to begin.

I tried to box it in here where I’m comfortable but it never felt right, so now I’m trying to let it go where it wants, without a plan or even a destination. There may be many changes in the early days while I adjust course. I have a feeling I won’t be able to see the turns until I’m right upon them.

It’s funny how a blog about finding the muse within oneself seems to be coming from the outside. It might be the only way my subconscious can get around my inability to promote myself. I mean, who am I to tell other people what they should value? Am I really so audacious as to think I might make something out of this? Really? I can only do it if it’s not me doing it, that’s what I think.

And so I ask for your help on behalf of this-thing-that-is-not-me.

Here’s what I need, and you may do any of these or all, whatever you feel comfortable with. I understand you might not be interested in the subject of the new blog, but your friends might be. Anything will help.

1. On Twitter: Follow YAtM on Twitter, and if you feel so moved, give a #FF shout-out
2. On Facebook: “Like” the new YAtM Facebook page and share with your friends. I’ll be suggesting the page to my friends, to make it easier. Subscribe to YAtM with a FB app called Networked Blogs. It’s a safe subscription service, with no spam whatsoever. Very unobtrusive. I’ll also be sending invites for that.
3. On your blog: If you think your readers will be interested, give YAtM a mention and/or put it in your blogroll. I’ll return the favor. I invite you to write your own post about creativity or the muse and tag it with You Are the Muse, or send it to me as a guest post, or both. I have two lined up, but would love more.

I think that’s a good start.

I imagine I will still post here with news of my life, but I might be a bit busy with YAtM for a little while. I would be EXTRASPECIALLY HAPPY, NO LIE, to hear your suggestions for features or improvements. This is a project for all, not just for me.

Thanks for all your support.

I sit in a quiet house for the first time in a week. A crazy blizzard plus several atypical days of subzero temperatures kept the entire family huddling in a thankfully barely-warm-enough house, but today, finally, our routine is back to normal. Finally, I get some alone time.

Until Mother Nature puts a stop to that nonsense on Tuesday night.

That’s right, we’re getting another (possibly crazy) blizzard which will lock us all in together for at least another couple of days, and possibly for the remainder of the week.

My children will have forgotten how to add and subtract by the time they get back to school on a permanent basis, but at least they’ll get their Little Big Planet pods just the way they want them.

Thank God for video games. And electricity, and heat, and snacks. And running water. Three days, I melted snow for washing. I don’t recommend it. The ratio of frozen pounds to melted gallons doesn’t work in our favor.

Anyway, the family will have a much-needed return to normal before we are hit once again. I have to go to Wal-Mart and elbow my way through the panicking hoards in order to restock my dwindling supplies; get all the laundry finished by tomorrow night in case the drain freezes again; gas up the car—and I hope I’m not forgetting anything.

Wish me luck.

Some think of the muse as a pet who will come if you train it with treats, while others see it as a lover you must coax with candlelight and soft words. I have a friend (though I can’t for the life of me remember which) who calls the muse “that elusive little bitch.” Mine is the Great Seventeen-Toed Hairy Prairie Hidebehind from a book I read in 2nd grade.

But in all seriousness, I see the muse as the connection we all have to a collective well of creativity. How do you define your muse?

~~~

Further reading:

http://idratherbewriting.com/2008/02/29/stoking-the-creative-muse-how-finding-ideas-to-write-about-is-similar-to-remembering-your-dreams/

http://www.squidoo.com/amuse

http://ancienthistory.about.com/od/mgodsandgoddesses/tp/Muses.htm

http://www.uwsp.edu/education/lwilson/creativ/muse/idmus2.htm