Caught in the amber

A small river we cross on the way to Newcastle. Photo by Matilda

This time round I have been waiting very long for the spark. That tiny little flicker of a thing that sets the ready kindling alight, slowly warming my insides with ideas licking slowly higher and higher, until I can no longer contain myself. And start creating in a burst of red hot energy! 

It is not a necessary ingredient in the life of an artist, I am told. One should create, write, sculpt whether you feel inspired or not. It comes with the doing. With the keeping at it. So I'm told and it has been my experience for the most. But there is a marked difference. If inspiration can be graded, I would have to say, the keep-at-it-and-it-comes-along variety has always been rather lukewarm for me personally. It does not seem to heat up much, but burns steadily and quietly, producing well... well, producing sellable products. But it hardly raises my pulse.  

While I'm in the creative slow cooker I am forever looking out for that something that will turn up the heat. It always surprises me with it's effervescence. Seconds or a mere look in another direction can make it flit by unnoticed. 

This time it came in a pair, unmatched but definitely from the same neck of the woods. The first found me in an antique and collectible shop: a vintage tea cosy. In a faded linen fabric, like creamed butter, with dainty flowers hand embroidered on both it's padded sides.

Photo by Matilda

It's unlikely twin jumped out at me from a quote published on facebook by a friend.    

"Well, here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of this moment. 

There is no why."

- from Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

And even though it comes from a very different setting altogether, the simple truth and beauty of the image lit me up inside and spilled right out of me as I suddenly found amber all around me. "Trapped in the amber of this moment." How gloriously true at this time of the year. How delicious and warming to dive into!

Why this? Why does it fire up my imagination? Why now? There is no why. It just does. 

View to the South. Photo by Matilda

View to  the North. Photo by Matilda

View to the East. Photo by Matilda

  

View to the West. Photo by Matilda

Matilda