Coiner of Names

Vest from my dream: stitched on the outside, written on the inside.

As far as I can tell, there is no “get out of jail free” card for the maker. There are, perhaps, skills that make imprisonment by self-doubt, stuckness, numbness, lack of imagination and failure less daunting and shorter-lived. For example, as I look forward to the next four months of being at home in my studio, my writing side is dormant, unresponsive and uninteresting. Thoughts of failure and leaving writing all together rise to the surface.

I remind myself that I can change what happens, leap from a negative state of mind, by changing my behavior. I remember my dream from what seems ages ago:

I am wearing a black vest with bright pink and red details. It seems to be singing. The dream voice announces that it is an “onomatopoeia” vest with “edges like feathers that catch sound.” As if the sound, the music, is already here, waiting to be caught. Listen, your creation is already here, waiting to take form. When I awake I am curious and discover the root of onomatopoeia: onomat = “name.” Name is both a noun and a verb. To arrive at a name some action is required. This idea is primordial, that things come into being because they are spoken. Perhaps this is why Adam’s naming of the animals has such a resonance. Naming is paired with creating.

Poeia comes from the ancient Greek meaning “I make.” To make, see. Name-making. Coiner of names. Onomatopoeia: taking dictation from what I hear. Word-making-vest!

After I had that dream, I set about stitching red patterns and writing on the vest my friend Marguerite made for me. When I told my friend Denise about the dream she offered bells to sew on the edges of my vest to catch sound. I was dedicated to the vision from my dream, and the energy it gave me. It awakened that ancient idea that what you desire to make wants to come, is waiting to take shape— that creation is not so much about making something new as it is a kind of remembrance.

Now, this morning, remembering my dream, I put on my onomatopoeia vest over my pajamas. It is before dawn, the moon is up. The fire from last night is still burning. I decide to dress for the muse. What have I got to lose?

The energy behind preparation, the ability to change behavior, to shift perspective, gives the courage to believe in a receiver, however you name her. To court the muse. To trust that if you prepare and show up, she will come. Not on demand, not when you think, maybe not even soon, but she will come. I believe in a receiver.

When I pause and think about this, I realize that what gave me courage to begin this morning was you, my readers; that I feel you on the other end posing as my muse. Thank you.

What gives you the courage to fail and begin again? I’d love to hear from you.