Myth and Meaning of the Muses<o:p></o:p>

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     Am I mad, or does the Muse call out to me?<o:p></o:p>

     Don't you hear her? Don't you hear her<o:p></o:p>

     in the rustling leaves, in the wind's soft voice,<o:p></o:p>

     in the water's laughter? Don't you hear her?<o:p></o:p>

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     If this is madness, let me go insane!<o:p></o:p>

     Let me go in search of her, calling out<o:p></o:p>

     to the bright sky: descend, singing goddess,<o:p></o:p>

     descend! Bring us your immortal music:<o:p></o:p>

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     the sound of flutes playing like wind<o:p></o:p>

     over bending grass, the sound of strings<o:p></o:p>

     plucked like sudden sunshine, the clear bell<o:p></o:p>

     of your voice thrilling through the world.<o:p></o:p>

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   The Greek goddesses of art and inspiration are the most familiar ancient divinities today, for we still invoke them constantly. When we muse on something. When we are amused. When we go to museums. When we listen to music. We hear their name many times daily, although few recognize it as an echo of ancient goddess religion, growing dinner and dimmer with each passing century.<o:p></o:p>

   Their memory still sounds within our language, even if we do not publicly invoke these goddesses as the great Roman poet Horace did in the above song. Their longevity is extraordinary, for the Muses were ancient even when horace wrote almost two thousand years ago. They are so ancient that wedo not know when their worship arosee, for they were already worshiped wjen the Greeks came down from the north to the peninsula named for them. The new arrivals encountered impressive mountains, like Helican in Boeotia, cloud-hung and occupied by resident goddesses. And there were freshwater springs like Castalia near Delphi; these, too, were already honored as connected to goddesses.<o:p></o:p>

   The Muses kept their residences, but they lost much of their power. The Greeks reinvented them as a warm of siblings, all daughters of Memory �?daughters, that is, of those who remembered the old ways. And, whereas the Muses had always been their own mistresses, the goddesses were now declared to be servants of the Greeks' own god of inspiration, Apollo. Now, instead of controlling access to inspiration, they merely served to inspire apollo's lyrics �?a role that the Muse has played historically ever since.<o:p></o:p>

   Their history as pre-Greek wilderness goddesses, each with her own spring or mountain, is doubtless the source of the confusion of names given the Muses by ancient authors. There are several listings offered; not even the number of muses remains consistent. Most commonly, it was said that there were nine Muses: Clio or Kleio (“fame-giver�? ruler of history; Euterpe (“joy-giver�? the Muse of lyric poetry; “the festive�?Thalia, Muse of comedy; the singing Melppomene, Thalia's opposite, Muse of tragedy; Terpsichore (“lover of dancing�?, who ruled choral song as well as dance; Erato (“awakener of desire�?, ruler of erotic poetry; Polyhymnia or Polymnia, the meditating one whose name means “many hymns�?and who inspired them; Urania (“heavenly�?, Muse of astronomy; and Calliope (“beautiful voiced�?, ruler of epic poetry.<o:p></o:p>

   Sometimes, however, there were fewer than nine Muses. The three named by the Greek author Hesiod were obviously symbolic of the way an artist creates;Melete (“practicing�?, Mneme (“remembering�?, and Aoide (singing�?. When there was only one Muse, she could be called by any of the names of the nine. To further confuse matters, the group as a whole had many names, usually derived from places sacred to one of them. Many of the names recall forest springs, beside which the Muses were said to dance; thus they are called Pieriades, Aganippides, Castalides, Heliconiades, and Maceonides, after sacred places of those names.<o:p></o:p>

   It may seem puzzling that the myths so rigorously enforce the connection of the Muses to wilderness areas, for to us art is a matter of civilization, an endeavor of the urban elite. But our foremothers had a different vision of art, an insight that is slowly being lost; that art is part of nature. Before she was an artifact of cultureee, the Muse was a natural force, a womanly presence that spoke in the woodlands, that sang in the bubbling springs, that danced in the ocean waves. And the artist who heard these songs and saw those dances brought back their beauty and mystery to the villages and towns, speaking to humanity. The inner landscape of inspiration and the outer landscape of nature was not separated by these wise ancients.<o:p></o:p>

   It was the role of the artist, then, not to create in the sense we often use it today �?to make something new, something the world has not seen before. Rather, it was the artist's primary job to listen and observe. Beside a dancing brook in a sunny forest, the artist would watch and wait until the power of that place made itself known. The poems and songs and other artworks that resulted from the inspiration of the Muses were, it was thought, easy to recognize. For the quality of art is special when the artist works to be a clear channel from the divine. To the original worshipers of the Muses, the divine lives in, and speaks through, nature's beauties. It is an insight that we can profitably muse on today.<o:p></o:p>

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                                                         Symbols of the Muses<o:p></o:p>

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   As individual goddesses, each of the Muses had symbols sacred to them: Clio was depicted with an open scroll or a chest of books; Euterpe had a flute; Thalia wore the comic mask and wreaths of ivy; Melpomene, the mask of trageeedy and vine leaves; Terpsichore and Erato were both symbolized by the lyre; Urania, a globe and Calliope, a tblet and pencil. Some of these, like the masks of Thalia and Melpomene, have become stylized beyond general recognition of their ancient goddess reference; called simply “the masks of comedy and tragedy�? they can be seen in theatrical waiting rooms around the globe.<o:p></o:p>

   As a group, the Muses were represented by the freshwater spring that bubbles, like inspiration, from a hidden source. Beside the spring was said to be a level grassy space, the dancing ground of the goddess. In such beautiful glades, to the merry sound of splashing water, these goddesses of inspiration were anciently invoked �?as they can be today. Across the world from the Muses' homeland, the Chinese expressed a similar insight when they described the action of chi in running water as beneficial and positive to humanity. Thus a recirculating fountain, placed using the principles of feng shui (Chinese art of placement), makes an excellent indoor location for invoking thses goddesses.<o:p></o:p>

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                                                  Feasts of the Muses<o:p></o:p>

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   In ancient times, the Muses were invoked every time a work of art was begun as well as each time it was presented. Before beginning a recitation, the poet would call out to the Muses to bring forth words as fluidly as the bubbling spring of Castalia. Often, at the close of a peom, a second invocation would thank the Muses for their presence at the creation or performance of a work.<o:p></o:p>

   There may have originally also been festivals dedicated to the ancient Muses, but these are not recorded, although their birthday is recorded as being on June 14. We also find, in Rome, a festival that honored goddesses very like the Muses. The Camenae, nymphs who lived in springs and were believed to foretell the future, were invoked on the Fontinalia, celebrated under the light of the full moon in October.<o:p></o:p>

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                                        Suggestions for Invoking the Muses<o:p></o:p>

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   How better to invoke the Muses than by performing the actions that please them?<o:p></o:p>

   Today, the arts have become a specialized form of expression, practiced only by a relatively small portion of the population. Yet we deny ourselves one of the greatest joys of human existence when we become spectators rather than doers. For the urge to create art is a deep-seated one, living in our hearts and souls, yearning to be fulfilled. Look at children: fearlessly, they paint big blue blotches on a piece of newspaper, admiring the color and shape without self-consciousness. Or they sing the same note, at a monotonous pitch, over and over, enjoying the sound that they can produce. Or they fling their arms overhead and whirl, whirl, whirl, for the sheer ecstasy of dancing.<o:p></o:p>

   Imagine what life would have been like in the days when the Muses were first invoked. People lived in small communities then, with each household producing most of its own necessities. Clothing, furnishings, decorative objects �?all were porduced by the people of the house. In doing so, they took pleasure in crafting each piece finely and decorating it well. Entertainment, too, was created spontaneously; there were dances and singing and recitations, sometimes for a special occasion, sometimes just because the rain wouldn't stop long enough for outdoor work. Each member of the household had an opportunity to serve the Muses. There were artists everywhere.<o:p></o:p>

   The arts were not a profession then. They were simply what people did. And this remained the case until relatively recently. Even a hundred years ago, Americans danced to the sounds of their neighbors' fiddles, wearing clothing they'd knit and embroidered themselves. But as recorded music, broadcast drama, and telecast dancing has become more the norm than the house concert or the country fair dance, average people create art less and less frequently than even a generation ago. And so the Muses areslowly being silenced, for they have fewer worshipers with each passing year.<o:p></o:p>

   To move into a creative relationship with the Muses, do just that: move. The Muses are not served by a contemplative order. To honor them, we must create.<o:p></o:p>

   First, however, we must listen to them.<o:p></o:p>

   The power of creation, the Muses tell us, comes to us through our senses. For it is not in a dreamy vision, dislocated from physical reality, that those goddesses appear. It is in the woodlands, on the mountaintop. by the bubbling spring. To begin to invoke the Muses, you do not have to travel to a mountaintop in the himalayas. They are right near you: in your yard, in a park, down the street in a vacant field.<o:p></o:p>

   The Muses speak the clearest where nature remains the most untamed, but you can find them in a burst of crrocus in the shadow of an office building. They speak in the language of the wind, and in the sound of water, and in the faint swishing of tree branches. Before you begin to create, you must find spaces where you can regularly encounter these wild goddesses. Spend some time exploring your neighborhood, or even your yard. They are there; you merely have to wait for them to show themselves.<o:p></o:p>

   Unfortunately for women in America today, it is not easy to find safe open spaces in which to encounter the Muses. Even if there is no immediate danger in a specific setting, the incidence of rape and murder in this nation makes it highly unlikely that a woman, alone in the woods, can relax long enough to attend to the quiet voices of the Muse. And it is not only urban dwellers, trying to hear the voice of the Muse in a forest preserve, who must contend with this limitation. Rural and even wilderness women can find themselves inhibited by knowledge of armed neighbors who might find a woman alone an appealing victim rather than a worshiper of the Muse.<o:p></o:p>

   Thus it is useful to find a partner or group willing to engage in this search with you. Make it understood before you start that your goal is to encounter the Muse, not to chat about work hassles or family challenges. Or get �?even borrow �?a dog, trained well enough to walk beside you and protective enough to scare away anyone who does not honor the goddess within women. Finally, you may be able to find well-maintained and guarded open lands, such as botanical gardens and arboretae, which provide a setting for semi-solitary contemplation while also protecting you while you loaf  and invite your soul.<o:p></o:p>

   Once you have determined where and with whom to invoke the Muse, make several sojourns to her outdoor temple. While you are there, simply look around you silently. Don't pressure yourself to have brilliant insights or ideas for poems and stories and paintings. Just look, and listen. Listen to the birdsong and the wind's whisper. look at the shapes of the plants, the changing colors of the sky. Breathe and enjoy the tangy taste of the land.<o:p></o:p>

   Such sojourns into the realm of the Muses should become a regular part of your  ife. Once you have had a few experiences with the sheer sensuous joy that the Muses can bring, you will be encouraged to continue. For there is a reason that the Muses are shown dancing in their green spaces. Even when the heart is burdened, the sensory stimulation of a beautiful natural setting will elevate the spirits.<o:p></o:p>

   Sojourning with the Muses, however, is just the first part of your attempt to invoke them into your life. The next part is through the creative process itself. And in order to do this most effectively, you must permit yourself to become an amateur �?that is, as the word's Latin root points out, to be someone who does the art simply for the love of ti. If you practice an art already, you may wish to attempt something that you know little about: painters can write poetry and poets paint, for instance. Or you may simply approach your art afresh, renewed with the experience of deirect encounters with the Muses.<o:p></o:p>

   Once again, this part of the invocation could be done alone or with a group. The group with whom you've sojourned in the Muses' realm may be willing to join in group creation. Once again, however, you should commit yourself to the creative process, not to discussion of everyday matters or �?worse yet �?to critical analysis of your work. Criticism has its place, but not in this ritual.<o:p></o:p>

   While you may choose any art form in which to create your invocation, an especially effective way to proceed is to use freehand drawing. Find a fairly large piece of paper and a soft pencil (or pastel cryaon). Close your eyes and concentrate on the space you visited in the first part of this ritual. Try to capture again the feeling of the spot: the way the light fell, the subtle sounds, the fragrances and odors.<o:p></o:p>

   When you have called up the power of that place, open your eyes and begin drawing. Do not have a specific scene in mind as you draw. Do not criticize yourself as you do so. And do not rush. Draw very slowly. Draw one line, the line that seems most right to you at that moment. Then hold your pencil away from the paper while you look at what you have drawn. When you feel the call to add another line, do so.<o:p></o:p>

   A shape will begin to emerge from the lines you have placed on the page. This is a crucial point in this process, for you will p[robably feel a temptation to begin filling out the picture �?drawing in a conventional way. But that pirate may really be a moose, or that tree a mountain. Let the drawing emerge, ever so slowly, from the page before you.<o:p></o:p>