Throughout history, us creative types have had "the muse", that man, woman, or pet that serves as a source of inspiration. Manet had his Victorine, Picasso had Mary-Therese and Francis Bacon had George. Well, those of you that follow me on Facebook know mine, but for those that don't, here she is.
There's no doubt she's incredibly beautiful, but that's probably one of the last reasons she inspires me to the point that she's been elevated to muse status. It's more the inside, as they say. Now, I'm not saying the fact she looks great in a bikini isn't a plus, I mean I AM an artist, so I like pretty things, but that really only gets you in the door doesn't it? I mean there has to be something else to keep someone interested, let alone inspired. For me, it's the complex set of contradictions packed behind those eyes. She's the smartest person I know, and I mean scary smart and she sure doesn't mind letting you know it. She's an odd and unapologetic mix of a pin up model, professor, 50's housewife, dude and hillbilly. Seriously, she can go from a cocktail party to the fishin' hole without so much as a hiccup. She'll lecture you on a variety of academic topics, cook you a gourmet meal, take you huntin' and fight you like a man if you get out of line, all the while looking cute. She's infuriatingly stubborn and obsessive, quick tempered and boisterous. She curses like a sailor, drinks beer, talks smack and knows more about sports than I ever did, yet is terrified of bees and refuses to touch meat with her bare hands and likes make-up. She can't sing for beans but she'll still screech out any 80's tune she hears, all while tidying up my messes. But she's also sweet and cuddly and one of the kindest and most compassionate and sensitive people I know.
But that's not why she's my muse, it's part of it, but really, it's more because she knows and accepts me. I mean she really knows me, in a way no one has ever taken the time to before. She accepts me just the way I am, and that's not an easy task. She knows all my secrets and deepest fears, all my faults and strange quirks. She's not afraid to call me on my shit, or to put me in my place when I'm wrong. But she's also the first person to jump to my defence or to hold me up when I'm down or comfort me when I'm sick. It's really those things that inspire me to be a better artist and person, and that's why she's my muse.