The muse in the clear waters of a mossy canyon is the perfect inspiration from a classical standpoint. She is pensive, beautiful, and like nature she exists apart from the machinations of human design, she simply continues in her serenity.
I often think about what nature is doing while I am sleeping. The water does not stop its race to the delta when I leave it. It does not pause its frenetic crashing at the ocean’s mouth, it continues as it has long before I existed, and does not care whether I love it. Similar is the nature of a muse. A muse simply exists, and will be here long after I am gone.
