some songs come all words first, in one fast poetic downpour, and the melody is later encouraged. sometimes its the reverse, a melody is heard, with pieces of words or sounds or images that flow with, and the rest of the poetry is uncovered- an archeologist brushing away dirt from the bone. 

some songs come all as one, a poetic gift of muse song, transcribed in the moment complete and polished from start to finish. all that is asked is to pick up the pen at the first sign of a whisper- but if i miss it, it passes by like a hum on the wind- here one moment, gone the next.

some songs feel very contrived, my own hands craft at work- sometimes i love these songs, sometimes i never play them more than once. though these songs often clear the path for the ones which come as if the song was completed before it arrived at the door of my subconscious

there are some songs which start out as images, a vision or dream which gestates over months or years and bursts forth like a desert bloom waiting for the unexpected downpour of inspiration to crack the dry crust of a thirsty land. others come out half baked, and take several months of rest and contemplation to be understood, or for the muse to return. 

some songs are strung together like constellations of collected moments of inspiration- gathered phrases of silver in my word jar, cracked open when its time to spend it all on a musing or two. 

some songs, the muse is a hovering presence, a spirit demanding hours of sitting and crafting till its dream has been actualized. other muses need offerings, coaxing, skillful teasing, devotion- they want to dance. each creation a gift, and each requiring of me more openness and trust, patience and curiosity, surrender, letting go.

Copyright © 2015 Marya Stark, All rights reserved. 

(photo by Julia Miho Nakamura)