I wish I could trace my inspirations as easily as my tongue traces my lips. I wish I knew the shape of them, without looking, the feel of them, without touching. I wish I knew the source.

I wish I could come back to them, re-moisten them, open them at will.

I’d kiss the whole world with my inspirations, just to see what it would do.

It would kiss me back.

Oh yes,
I am sure it would kiss me back.

But my inspiration fades too quickly to kiss anything but a keyboard, a brief tasting of qwerty, and then it is gone.

I never get a chance to trace the source of my inspirations because I am tasting the shape of them, letting the flavors power the circuits of my body, letting them electrify me into becoming a singularity, like everyone else.

But this singularity is typing because flavors fade and inspiration dries, and my muse has no tongue. She depends on my fingers to speak her sound, and they slave to her.

Later she will fade away, wherever she goes, and I will try to find her, but it is near impossible when you cannot trace the path like a tongue tracing life into droughted lips.

My inspirations run dry, and I cough dust where once I could blow wishes into existence. My inspirations run dry, and so I chase tumbleweeds where once I harvested fiery peppers.

I wish I could fill myself up like a forest that dips her roots into the river, like a leaf that reaches into winter to catch the snow. I wish I could trace my inspirations, back to the source, as easily as I trace the shapes of my lips.

They are parched, almost always. My mind is like a desert. My lips crack, before a kiss that lands no where. My mind is an island.

I am in drought, and so I hold my face up to the sky– blowing kisses like wishes to the clouds– thirsting for the types of interactions that taste like rainfall.


What’s the most surprising thing that inspires you?


  1. A nightmare, good old-fashioned stress (but not too much- just a pinch), and best of all, a brief feeling of love. However small, they tend to get the pen or the brush moving. Other times, it almost feels supernatural…
    -But that’s another story for another day….

    Liked by 2 people

  2. A nice cloudy day, dark storm clouds, and then it starts raining. The colors seem more vibrant and the world seems refreshed. It also makes me think of Ultima 8 (video game). It definitely gets my old noodle a spinning.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I haven’t seen you in a while! (Although your posts may have just been buried in my Reader so I apologize if you’ve been posting as normal!) Surprisingly, my split with my soul sister brings me so much inspiration. It was originally something very negative event for me but I’m slowly turning it around as I pick up the pieces and move on.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh, love … this was beautiful.
    To your question – so many things inspire me (you may or may not notice my fleeting epiphanies all over Facebook), yet alas, I do not spend enough time putting them in any sort of assemblage so as to create a piece of writing. My current story is slogging along at a glacial pace. I do not groom it enough as it sits, panting, just at the back of my brain …

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This is wonderful and something I can definitely relate to. Your question? Probably what’s going on in the world and in my life. So much of what I write is personal, or ethnography. It’s ethnography of self, an autoethnography if you will. I would rather put words in my own mouth than try and put words in the mouths of other people or cultures, especially when making observations about everyday life.


    Liked by 1 person

  6. This is where I am right now – in a drought. But, slowly, rain is beginning to fall…

    My oddest inspiration? An open letter to Hillary Clinton. Maybe. I’m sure there are probably weirder things that have inspired me, though.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I think, I believe, your inspirations are out there trying to get to you. And they just can’t get through. But they are screaming and racing and hurtling themselves at the barriers. They will get through. WIth you searching, and them searching, and both battling to be together….you will make it happen Rara. I know this to be true.


  8. Inspiration for me in recent years has become a paradox. When I look to the usual sources that I think will sparkle with it, I see only fuses that won’t light. When I clear my mind and go cruising through a dull rut, inspiration will lean out from behind a corner I’ve overlooked and toss a firecracker through my window. It’s like a frustrating friendship with someone who impishly refuses to stop playing hide-and-seek.

    Also, there’s my wife, more often than she knows.


  9. Don’t laugh, but I get inspired when I’m out fishing on the river, soaking in the beauty of the scenery, no cell phone, laptop, or TV to distract me. Perhaps a leisurely stroll through some woods would open the doors for you? Beautiful words, though. โค

    Liked by 3 people

  10. Words. Random words. Unexpected words juxtaposed that demand more words to go with them.

    I’ve just barely been keeping up with my blog, blogging instead of writing if you know what I mean. I’ve been on the lookout for an announcement from you about Team Tiny Peppers and Nano Poblano, but then I realized I hadn’t seen you in my reader in a while. I guess you could say I rely on others for inspiration, too.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s definitely happening! I did a Facebook live about it… I should do a post, too. ๐Ÿ™‚ I even made a whole separate blog with scheduled daily inspirations. We’re gonna have the best pepper harvest ever this year. ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  11. As always your writing is is beautiful. For me Inspiration comes and goes. Sometimes too quick. I was inspired by my baby, sometimes by seeing someone walking in a park and other times by the taste of coffee or weather outside

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Silence. Unbroken silence. Silence is my only true inspiration. My only valued prompt. My only trusted muse. Silence shakes me loose inside. Silence is my positive dissonance. I’m gonna buy me a winter’s stockpile of silence… and write.

    (thanks for the reminder)

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Your mind is an island? Goodness! That’s not good! Rara needs her people! Go! Find some people, quick! That will help inspire you! Even just sitting somewhere and watching people will help with your drought. You need people like you need air.

    Me, an island is kind of a relief. Here, I’ll hang out on the island and make sure it’s okay while you go find some people. ๐Ÿ˜€

    Be careful, because those clouds are going to dump heaps of wish-kisses back on you when you least expect it. Don’t bring an umbrella. *Hugs* โค

    Liked by 1 person


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