This morning I wake up in Venice, Italy. I have written a post for each day but mostly they are just notes on the sights of the places I have visited. But as I wake up and look over the port of this ancient city, I feel the romance of the town. Last night we walked with a tour guide the narrow streets so we could feel the ambiance of the city. I could feel the muse of this town fill me with romance for my arts of words and pictures. These must be the same muse that inspire all the painters, sculptors, architects, builders, poets, writers, and photographers over the centuries. I could feel them all around me and I am inspired to write the words of how they make me feel.

I am making this journey with my aunt. She has seen these sights and walked these streets before; but with her late husband and love of her life. She remarked how different it looked this time, not as big not as bright. She said the same while we in the Vatican. She could understand why this time it is different. This morning I think I know why. On might say it is because she has seen it before. One can argue that but I think it is more than that. This time she is seeing it as an individual and not though the eyes of romance. There is something different when you see things by just looking with your own eyes than when you look at things with the eyes of your lover. Perhaps that is a new meaning for the word ‘romance’; the seeing of things through the eyes of lovers. It definitely makes you see things differently. I know this morning I wish I had a lovers eyes to see the city with. Yet the muse is helping me to see things that way here in Venice. I feel the romance I did not feel in the other cities I have visited on this trip. The muse has found me.

From what I have studied of various writers and painters, they mostly had no permanent love of their life. So in order to paint or sculpt the things they did it would take a muse to help them bring out the romance of what they were working on. The same for the writers and poets. It takes that inner voice, the muse or the jinn, to join with the soul to create the masterpiece. Certainly over the centuries there have been some busy muse and jinn. I hope the one that inhabits me today will stay a while and helps me to finish the book I am working on. But also I hope it inspires me to feel the city of Venice through a lovers eyes because I love that feeling inside. I just wish the muse or jinn was a real flesh and blood person so I could feel the warmth of bodies as well as the romance of us together. There is so much to be said for romance. It is nearly a drug the body and soul cannot live without. Do you not agree?