Saturday, October 13, 2018

The Sources of Inspiration

Do you know where inspiration comes from?

Angelo Roncalli believes it comes in waves of supernatural light on the faces of his audience. He knows that the January clouds are impervious to most illumination—but still light comes.

Light like Angelo’s breaks through the office windows of this slick Fordham building—its corporate neon of the news ticker in the tech lab two doors down softened by the Birkenstocks peeping out from underneath the desk.

How do you set routines so that inspiration strikes when needed? How do you teach your ribcage to open up in a rhythm so that breath can enter and eventually expire?

It’s a constant question by anyone who’s not a hermit or chained to their library cubicle writing their dissertation—or even by them, too, I think. How do we entice the angels to visit us?

As we wonder that together, the light bursts behind his head—perhaps that light is the angel.

Perhaps angels are the sort of people who you find playing drums on the subway to the tune of Psalm 137 or singing Andrea Boticelli songs at 9am. Perhaps these are people who have heard inspiration's call and heeded it.

Rain drips on the fire escape, a swollen, red sliver of crescent moon hangs over the Statue of Liberty in the harbor. I think it looks beautiful, but one man has decided not just to notice the beauty, but preserve it. To hear the word of God and act on it.

Does inspiration bubble up from giggling babies and dominoes players on your street? Does it hide in the shine of skyscraper lights on the river?

Are all these visions small apprehensions of angels—the muses we have circled around our Sun God—our symphony master and main melody.

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