Where does it come from, the world around us or the world within? Both, I suspect. I loved the story I once heard on the radio about a fellow musician driving some place with Willie Nelson. I don’t remember the exact quote, but Willie asked him, “Can you hear it, all the music, all the melodies around us in the air?” Magic, huh?
Maybe inspiration comes from a combination of noticing what’s happening around us, whether it be in nature, or the news, something that triggers interest in a magazine, an anecdote, the way someone behaves or something they say, and receiving something inwardly. Some people get ideas, whole scenes and stories even, in their dreams. Who can say where those come from? I have to think about things, except, strangely enough, when it comes to poetry. I don’t claim to be a poet, or to know as much as I should about the art of writing poetry, but sometimes a line will simply pop into my head . If I grab a pen and paper and simply go with the words appearing on the page, I’ll produce something that will likely surprise me. Any writer will tell you what a wonderful feeling that is.
I read somewhere that all writers should write poetry. Not necessarily to be published, but because doing so will improve their prose. As with so many things artistic, I guess it’s a matter of pushing aside the barriers. In Buffalo some years ago, I had a profound experience when visiting the Albright-Knox gallery’s exhibition from China ‘The Wall’. One high, square space had hangings, like an inner room, made of sections but transparent. I liked that thought, that we can see both sides and not be boxed in.