Your Prompts.
An Experiment in Radical Magical Transformation
My muse and I have an on-going disagreement of sorts. Well. I do. She is indifferent as usual to my thoughts and feelings. She clomps into my bedroom, heels in hand, cosmo and cheese fries on her breath.
She (poking me hard): Hey. Get up.
Me: What? It's bedtime and we're not talking friends --
She: Whatever. I have an idea.
Me: Your ideas are disorderly and often inconvenient. I'm going back to bed.
She: No, you're not. I'm going to keep poking you in your brain pan until you listen. Are you listening now? Are you listening now? Are you listening now? Are you listening now? Are you listening now? Are you listening --
Me: JESUS CHRIST, I HATE YOU!
She: So it goes like this.
So, you're supposed to be, like, magicians, occultists, witches in the woods and the kitchen and on the soccer field, right? Workers of wonder. Dream weavers. People who get shit done. Isn't this the year to make your own luck? You're feeling especially awful with the nights that never end and run over by the holidaze and you can't drink joie forever before needing a meeting. So now's the fucking time. Don't wait until that stupid glitter ball drops and you're already making drunk and/or sentimental mistakes, start now. Start now when it's hardest. Start now when you feel so weighed down with emotions better left to glittery and not so glittery vampires and when you feel like you could sleep forever. Now is the time you need to wake up. Get up, get up! Don't miss this moment. Create magics great and small, mundane and mystical. Find everything you've been looking for, mysteries revealed in every form of divination and song and when you fuck it up, when you are too tired to try, bring each other up from bloodied knees to get back up smiling. You are all made of stars and you have stardust in your veins. Do something about it.
Here is what you'll do. You'll write prompts. You'll explore. You'll fall down. Sometimes you'll lay there awhile, finding things under rocks that you never wanted to know. They'll pull you back, using yarn, glue, cajoling and stern words. You'll keep sewing yourself into who you'll want to be and you'll tell them, sometimes too much, because that's your way and what's needed. You'll find how far you can really fly when you've made wings to carry you and be breathless from your accomplishments. Besides your words, you'll give something made from your hands.
Here is what they'll do. Form a community of tealight hearths and stories high bonfires. They'll whisper their stories, spirals of success and failure. You'll learn from each other, make each other laugh, piss each other off. You'll get things done together and alone. You'll be afraid together, so knees up.