Writing with Muskox

Sometimes you have to get out of your own head and out of your idealized version of how things are supposed to go to get things done. Let’s take a look at the writer’s life for instance. Here’s how I picture it: a low burning fire, a light crackling sound, in a leather wing-backed chair with a mug of coffee. Right!  Not when you're the taxi driver for three very busy kids.

Here’s how it really is, at least for me. First of all, I’m writing a blog post about absolutely nothing because I simply have to get something out there since it’s been ever so long since I’ve done so. Am I sitting in a quaint little coffee shop with bohemian cohorts that are studiously typing away or sketching in little notebooks? No. Am I lounging on a rock overlooking a picturesque lake that will inspire Thoreau like descriptions winning me the admiration of all my writer friends? No. Well, where the heck are you? (I hear you asking this in my head)

I am parked beside a muskox farm, cramming my laptop between me and the steering wheel of my pickup truck waiting for my son at cross-country practice. Yea, that’s not really what I had in mind as the idyllic writer’s life. But, the more I travel and explore, I realize that the muse can come in all packages. So, I think I can appreciate this spot. This will be a new trend, I think, everyone will want to find their own muskox farm to write by.  

However, as I swat at the thousandth mosquito and roll up my window for the hundredth time, I am beginning to doubt myself. 

My husband sums it up best, “Ahh, the beauty of the muskox. Inspiring in stature and majestic composition as well as pleasing to the nose. Reminds one of a smelly platypus, if there is such a thing.” 

                                                                                      www.alaskawildlife.org

                                                                               Isn't this the sweetest face?

   

There really is no requirement for a “writing spot”. Wherever you can find to put your butt in the seat and put pen to paper is the ideal place. That’s the brilliance of writing. You can really do it just about anywhere. I’m thinking the shower might be difficult, but I’m sure there's someone out there who has done it.

My writing spot may not be the most charming, but having the time to sit down to a keyboard and dream is a blessing. So, wherever your inspiration comes from, whether it be under the lamplit haze of Guiness in a darkened pub, or out among the muskox-- write on dear friends, write on.