Meeting my Muse

Melody sat in her college advisor’s office, feeling the late afternoon sun coming through the window. October in the city always has a strong feeling of the impending winter to come. 

“How is your Junior year going so far?” asked Judith.  “Do you feel like you are making progress?  Your midterm grades look good.” 

“I feel good!  I know that it is time for me to start moving forward and  I’m ready to take this leap into installation and presentation.”  

“Ok! I love  your enthusiasm. Most painters don’t want to take a step back from their easel and learn more about how to present their work. Let’s see what’s available for you.”

Melody gazed out the window as she listened to Judith’s fingers move quickly across her keyboard. She was glad she sounded enthusiastic because she actually felt uninspired these days. She wasn’t at all sure about moving forward in her BFA program and was starting to wonder if she had made the right choices in her college career. 

“OK so it looks like the next course you need is Painting 345 From Wall to Space: Extended Media.  We have 1 class that  still has an opening on the Monday/Wednesday schedule at 8:00 am.”

“I’m sure they have plenty of openings for an 8 am class. Who gets up that early?”  Melody said with a chuckle.

“You do” replied Judith “If you want to graduate that is.” 

“Is that my only option for this class? Mornings are just not my thing.” 

“Well Melody we all  have to grow up sometime and start doing things we don’t like. Look at this class as an opportunity for change!” 

Melody agreed to sign up for the class but silently vowed to find a way out of it, even if it meant stalking the admission schedule and jumping into the first open seat of the evening class. 

Two months later Melody was at home on Christmas break. She was still checking the class schedule, trying to get out of the 8am class. She also heard her advisor’s words bouncing around in her head. 

“Look at this as an opportunity for change.” 

“We all have to grow up sometime.”

Melody went downstairs where she could hear her mother puttering around the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway, watching her mother move around, wiping down counters and moving stray items back where they belong. She noticed how different she was from her mother. 

Sally was known for being social, bright and friendly.  She was always in the middle of anything happening in town and volunteered everywhere. By contrast Melody found it difficult to interact with other people, let alone be social. 

Melody caught her reflection in a mirror that hung in the dining room. She took in her purple hair, and her piercings. Dark makeup usually finishes off her look.  She realized how different she was from her parents. She had known that she was adopted since she was 12, and has often wondered if her sense of style came from one of her birth parents. She often found herself marching to the tune of a different drummer, but her family embraced and loved her anyway. 

“Good Morning Mom”

“You mean afternoon right?”

“Nah, it's still 11. Afternoon doesn't start until after 12.” she said with a chuckle.

Melody went to the refrigerator to find something to eat, and could feel her mother watching her. 

“Mom, you're staring.” she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“I'm sorry”, her mother replied. “Just noticed you have really become a night owl since going to college. I worry a little that you've developed a bad habit. You always liked sleeping late on weekends but now it seems it's every day. A mother worries about the little things.”

“Well that may change soon Mom, I've been cornered into an 8 am class starting in January. I'm still trying to get out of it.”

“But are you alright?” Sally persisted. “You just haven't seemed much like yourself lately. And you haven’t painted at all since you've been home.”

“Mom, I'm fine. I've just been tired lately. Maybe the cold weather is doing me in” she said. “I haven't felt very inspired lately. To be honest it's been a struggle to even work on my assignments.”

Melody and Sally talked about the importance of inspiration and where it come from.

“I'm not much of an artist, that must have come from your birth family. But I do know that change can be a catalyst for inspiration. Maybe it's time to shake things up a bit.” said Sally.

Melody recalled what her advisor had told her. 

“Look at this as an opportunity for change.”

With a sigh Melody realized that maybe this early morning class would do her some good.

It was January the 2nd and Melody's alarm went off at 7am. She startled awake trying to understand why this was happening so early. 

Suddenly she remembered her New Year goal, to start getting up early so she would be ready to start her early morning class. 

She hated resolutions but she was always up for goal setting. She reminded herself that it was time to make changes.

As she took in the early morning light she knew she was definitely making a change.

 She realized she will have to change her work schedule too. She works remotely doing freelance illustrations for ad agencies. This helped her build a portfolio and kept her bills paid. It was the perfect job because she could set her own schedule. As long as the work was done on time, who cares when she did it?

Now she realized she would be working in the afternoons and evenings, instead of at night as she had been.

Melody allowed herself some time to languish in bed. Small steps. Just because the alarm went off didn't mean she had to jump out of bed. She stretched and felt her body relax and release the tension stored overnight. 

She thought about her first two years of college and how much she has learned, and how much she has grown as an artist.

And how uninspired she had been lately. 

She decided not to think about that as she felt her anxiety rise. She forced herself out of her warm bed and into the shower. 

Later Melody was showered, dressed and pounding down the sidewalk in pursuit of a hot cup of coffee. She was also questioning her life choices. What was she thinking? 

Right now she was thinking she needed coffee.

She spotted the familiar green awning and hurried her pace. It was cold and she was crazy for being out in this. She could smell the gorgeous scent of fresh baked pastries and brewed coffee as she walked up to the door. 

Suddenly she tripped on something and looked down. A  tuxedo cat stood there staring at her with that look of strained patience his species has perfected. 

“Good grief I'm sorry little one” she said as she bent down to pet him. 

“Well don't look at me like that I didn't see you there.”

The cat meowed at her and started to rub her legs. She petted him noticing how affectionate he was and how he loved every drop of attention. 

“Poor little guy, who let you out in this cold weather.”

“He's just a little stray” came a voice from behind her. “He's always hanging out here looking for food. He doesn't usually let people touch him though.”

Melody turned and smiled at the man walking up to her. Brown hair, blue eyes, about her age. She could feel a twinge of interest.

“Oh, poor kitty. I hate to see homeless animals. He should be someone's pet.”

“The owner of the shop keeps him fed but doesn't let him in to stay. I'd bet this cat has several names and just as many people feeding him.”

Melody thought of her favorite childhood movie “Lady and the Tramp” and grinned.

The man opened the door for her as she walked in. The cat didn't try to follow them. 

As Melody got her coffee she asked about the cat. The old man behind the counter confirmed the cat is a stray and gave her some bacon to feed the cat. She found out the cat is male and often called Oscar.

Melody looked around for the man and noticed he had stepped to the back and was putting on a green apron. Realizing he must work here, she waved and went back out the door.

Oscar sat patiently waiting for her, clearly expecting to be fed. Melody put the food out for him, gave him one final pat and was on her way.

When she returned to her apartment, she realized how much it needed to be cleaned. This led to her going through clutter, which led to cleaning out drawers and then going through her closet. 

By the afternoon she was left with two bags of garbage, 1 bag of clothes to take to the homeless shelter and was feeling refreshed. She couldn't believe what she had managed to accomplish in just one day. 

She looked at her watch and realized why she was hungry. She made a sandwich and decided to get started on her latest work assignment. 

For the next several days Melody continued with her new routine of getting up early, and her daily cup of coffee. She started to realize how much she needed this change and was glad she decided to go cold turkey on sleeping in every day.

Other things were happening as well. She found herself getting to know Tony, the handsome man she met that first morning. He was also a student, a business major and headed for law school. As different as they were, she found herself enjoying seeing him daily.

She also saw  Oscar daily. She found herself looking for him on her daily walk to the coffee shop. She had even bought some canned food to feed him. He was becoming even more friendly and even followed her home occasionally, from a distance of course.

One particularly cold and windy morning Melody noticed that Oscar was huddled under a bush. She didn't blame him as the windchill was near zero. She would not have gotten out herself if it wasn't for the need to run to the grocery store before the storm hit full force. She hurried down the sidewalk but then stopped and turned. Oscar was right behind her, tale straight up like a flag as he ran behind her. He stopped when she did. She turned again and hurried to her apartment building. As she opened the door Oscar ran in the building ahead of her. She realized there was no way she could leave him out there, he'd freeze to death for sure. She called out to him and he followed her up the stairs to apartment 2B. 

She noticed how he ran into the apartment like he had always lived there. With a quick look around he went and settled on a chair near her easel. 

Her easel sat there empty. No canvas, no half completed painting. She hadn't painted since Thanksgiving and even then her work was not as good as she knew she was capable of doing.

She unpacked her groceries, and fed Oscar the cat food she happened to buy at the store that day. She watched him eat, give himself a bath and then curl up in the chair he had clearly claimed as his own. 

She also looked long and hard at her easel again. She suddenly felt hit with the same inspiration she had days earlier, which led to the big refresh of her apartment. 

She put a canvas on her easel, got out her paint sets, and began painting. She felt the familiar rush of excitement as the brush moved across the canvas. As she painted the vision in her mind she didn't stop to ponder where it came from, or why she felt the need to paint something so simple. 

All she knew was that she had to get this image onto the canvas.

Melody took a step back to look at what she had created.  She had created a two-story farmhouse with yellow slats and white trim. Off to the side was a field.  She reached back over and began adding daisies to the picture. She had never really painted anything so simple but she had to admit, she liked it. She added a few more final touches, and then took her supplies to clean them. 

As the warm water ran over her hands while she cleaned she thought about her painting. “Where did that come from?” she had thought to herself. She had not felt that strong of a pull to paint in a very long time. She recalled her mother’s words 

“But I do know that often change is a catalyst for inspiration. Maybe it's time to shake things up a bit.” 

As much as it pained her to admit it, her mother may be right. She thought of all that she had accomplished, all of the little changes that occurred since changing her daily routine and realized it was true. The painful truth hit her at once. “Have I become a morning person?” she thought with horror.  Yes, it would appear she had.  

Her new found inspiration happened almost daily now.  She began creating larger paintings with much more detail. She felt a strong pull to pay close attention to the details, which had never been something she did before. She also began creating more realism paintings, with more people in them which she had always flatly avoided before. She could feel herself growing more and more as an artist. She looked at the calendar and realized that her new class was starting in less than a week. She couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t dreading it anymore and she might even look forward to going. 

“So this is my apartment,” Melody told Tony several days later.  “It isn’t much but the rent is good and it’s close to school.”

“I love it! Is that your artwork?” he asked as he made a bee line for her paintings which were leaning up against the wall behind where her easel stood. “Wow Melody, I love your work. I am truly amazed, I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”

Melody and Tony had become closer friends. They started to run into each other away from the coffee shop and had even gone out on a few dates. Melody admitted she was growing quite fond of him. 

“Thank you! I have been playing around with a different style of painting lately. I don’t know why but I have suddenly felt drawn to creating more realism and I have been working to improve painting people’s faces.”

“Have you considered painting just a person, no scene? Just a close up of a person so you can really practice facial features.” Tony asked. 

“No, I haven’t but that is actually a really good idea.”

Tony and Melody moved toward the kitchen to cook dinner. They had an evening plan of Netflix and chill. Tony was a terrific cook, and Melody could barely boil water so she was looking forward to learning more from him.  Her mind kept wandering back to his suggestion and Melody decided she would try it. 

For the next few days Melody found herself working around her easel, but not actually working at it.  She knew she was afraid to dive into painting a person, so she just didn’t paint anything at all. 

Thud

Melody jumped and looked over at the window. She sighed and chuckled when she saw Oscar standing on the ledge meowing. She realized he must have climbed the fire escape to get up here. 

“Oscar! You scared me silly boy. What in the world are you doing here?” she exclaimed. “Get in here” Melody opened the window and let him inside. It was another blustery day outside. No wonder he wanted inside so badly. 

Melody pet Oscar and put some food down for him. It was Monday and she started her new class this morning, so her routine had changed a little bit. By the time she got to the coffee shop Oscar was nowhere to be seen. She was happy to see him now.  

Later Melody was putting away her work and looked over at Oscar who was now standing at the window, obviously wanting to be let back outside.  “Are you sure boy? It’s terribly cold out there” she asked.  “MEOW” was the response she got, so she let him back out. She figured he had survived this long outside, and if he wanted out she would let him go. 

Melody turned to her easel and was suddenly struck with an idea of what she wanted to paint. In her mind she could see the unruly dark hair, cat-like green eyes and a smile that told the world she had a secret but refused to reveal it. Melody put paintbrush to canvas and her vision came to life. For the first time in a while Melody found herself staying up late again. But she couldn’t tear herself away from this painting. 

Several hours later she finally took a step back. It was nearly done and she was exhausted. She cleaned up her supplies and vowed to finish it the next day.

A few days later Tony came to Melody's apartment, and immediately noticed the painting. 

“Wow Melody this is amazing. What a beautiful woman” he said. “Who is she?”

“I don't know, I was painting and there she was.”

Tony moved around looking at the painting from different angles. 

“You know, if I didn't know better I'd say this is a self portrait. Or, do you think you painted your birth mother?”

Melody gasped. “Do you think so?”