Kind of Loving

There are so many kinds of and reasons for love.  I love coffee ice cream and rum and raisin.  I love banana milk shakes and I love soda bread.  So many loves, too many to list.  I love all dogs and cats and though mine are mine I wouldn't say I love them more or less than those I don’t know.

People too, so many people I care about, all for different reasons all for the same one: they move me, something in them strikes a chord and that’s it.  Its nothing new, artists have for centuries fed off the inspiration provided by a person such a person became known as a muse,

Not sexual although like all human relationships it depended on the artist and his/her muse, sometimes its a deep affection, sometimes respect, and sometimes it must have been sexual which doesn’t mean it was sex.
And perhaps occasionally, rarely it was a kind of hatred.   Fury at something recognised and immediately disliked, perhaps those are the most incendiary non relationships, because this one produces an instant, striking response and such a response whilst rarely physical is always emotional.

Eh, its four in the morning, I’m awake and I can doodle if I want.

And no I'm not flattering myself that I was some kind of muse I already said I don't believe a word of it...

Be well.