It happens, briefly, a firefly flash, and disappears almost immediately. Inspiration. So fleeting, it’s hard to trust.
Often, I find myself prone to attacks late at night. Sometimes, they are so intense that the accompanying adrenaline rush keeps me awake for the rest of the night. It happened last night and already, not 24 hours later, I’m having second thoughts. Like waking up after a one night stand. Was it truly all it was cracked up to be?
I was propped up in bed with indigestion, browsing Google images of MDF art. I’d had an idea in mind, a cityscape collage, made from cut out shapes of MDF. I scrolled down idly, missing the boys on a sleepover and sniffing their pillows for comfort. And I saw it. A crow printed on a piece of plywood. I clicked on the image. It was by someone called Daniel Heyman. I googled Mr Heyman, and I was off, roaming unfettered across Heyman’s cyber territory, visiting his work, listening to him talk, checking out his photographs, reading his thoughts. Within half an hour I was a little in love with the rugged looking, gentle voiced Daniel Heyman, an American artist eight years older than me. And then, absurdly deflated, on discovering that his sexual orientation did not match mine. Such is the dangerous cocktail of indigestion, inspiration and late night internet browsing.
Nonetheless, the work was the thing. The main thing. It made me think. It made me think about my own situation. It made me want to do something about it. I won’t say what. But I found Daniel Heyman’s art inspirational in a way that doesn’t happen often. It got me going. It really did. At least it did, nearly 24 hours ago. As I say, already, I’m having my doubts. Though this time, I won’t let my thoughts slip through my fingers like quicksilver, or sand or whatever slips through fingers. I won’t let that future get away.
Ariadne Birnberg 