Isn't she fabulous? I mean, she's really stunning. And, the way she's posed, she's got this authority, this verve, this DIRECTION - things one would not necessarily find in an 11 1/2" vinyl and plastic anything.
I'm smitten and I must find this doll. I used to collect Barbies seriously and I'm fretfully serious when I say "seriously". At one point, my collection easily numbered over 200 little plasticky souls. But then the economy changes, or you run out of space, or you collect tarot decks instead (or all of the above). And you grow out of the need to surround yourself with these little poppets. And that's okay.
Full disclosure: as of just recently, like, in the past two weeks, my writing muse has tap tapped on the door and I let her in again. I've written two books, tons of blog and Facebook posts, tons of notes as a director, short stories, portions of plays - I just WRITE, okay?! But my muse has been dormant for the last year or so due to a raft of setbacks. My laptop sat and cried. I cried. Everyone cried. And then I wiped the tears away, went to Asheville, NC for a week, and somehow, some way, I started writing again.
Nothing earth-shaking. Nothing that's yanking on my sleeve like an antsy child, "Hey. HEY! This is your new book idea right HERE!! Write it. WRITE IT!!!". No, nothing like that. Just, well, my facility for it returned. The Outer Critic Inside My Head quieted down (no, it will never entirely shut up, but do they ever? Can they?), and writing started to become, dare I say it, enjoyable again.
But The Muse. The Muse is back then, right? Must be. Don't know where she went. I feel things just got too dark here and she gallivanted away to inspire and noodge other folk. Who wants to stick around when depression and tears run the show? She obviously went to where she could breathe again, smile again, "flair" again.
She's back now. And I must personify her, find something or someone to represent her. Make her solid in some way. I can't lose her again so I need a touchstone of some sort. An image, Something tangible.
Now, I'm not into the Greek or Roman pantheons, so borrowing from them won't jibe with me. But the pantheon I DO prescribe to is that of the Groovy. So I did a Google search for "60s goddess". Images of Twiggy and Grace Slick showed up in the feed. As did Andy Warhol "Factory" regular Edie Sedgwick (who had quite a tragic ending, so that wouldn't fly for a Muse for me, no sir). But then up popped Mod Redux Barbie, pictured above. She was the right amount of Warhol's brilliance, Mondrian's structure, and the warmth of a cherished plaything (the plaything you told all your secrets to, who conspired in magnificence with you when you were seven years old and all was possible). And it just clicked.
Why her? Why a groovy goddess? What's all this then?
As I said, look at her presence, her command, the way the creatives at Mattel posed her (thanks, creatives at Mattel!). This presence just popped and resonated with me. I usually veer toward the cast of "Bewitched" for my personal pantheon, but this is close enough for fruggin'. Dig the outfit, like a winsome bumblebee. Bees create. Bees continue the species, foster life. There's a sort of power here, a sense of "anything is possible". And her hair, well, no one says a Muse can't have YOUR hairstyle.
So, Mod Redux seems to fit the bill. She needs a name, however, so I'll call her Minxy. And what, pray, does "minx" mean? From the Free Dictionary: A girl or young woman who is considered to be impudent or very flirtatious. 2. Obsolete A promiscuous woman. [Probably from obsolete mynx, playful little dog, perhaps from alteration of obsolete Dutch minneken, darling; see minikin.] minx′ish adj.
There are worse ways to define a muse. And if this freewheeling mynx, chockfull of impudence, sass, and not just a little bit of canine playfulness will work for me, then my Muse she shall be.
(Note: in order to purchase a 3-dimensional version of said Muse, I need to cough up, depending on where I look, either $22 or $999. Apparently, so are the ways of the mynx ...)
