I don’t know why, but questions/prompts/ideas like these have always made me uncomfortable. The “and how does that make you feel” type of questions make me feel like I need to make up something that someone wants to hear. Asking what my inspiration is makes me feel like I need to answer “love” or “my family” or “peace” or something that is purely a “cop out” answer. I fully accepted that I would just phone in this assignment, and went on about my day.

The thing is, I started thinking that surely there must be something inspirational to me. In the back of my mind, something must nudge me in the direction of creation. Something surely has some sort of sway over me. I decided that I need to believe that or I may actually be worried about myself. The anti-establishment Michael who absolutely eye rolls "how does that make you feel” questions actually may just be some kind of coping mechanism, I don’t know. I’m not a therapist. But after pouring over essentially my entire photographic catalogue, I came up with this image.

This is a windmill, in the middle of a field, overgrown and obviously derelict. Windmills were used in this area to drive the pump of a well. Wells were the source of water to a house. A house is the residence of a human. And now it is a field. Someone used to have a home here, full of memories and trials and happiness and sadness and drama and joy. And now this spot is a field, a home survived solely by a rotting windmill.

Who was that person? Was their story inspirational? Was it full of love? Or maybe tragedy?

I think my inspiration is the idea of continuation. It is comforting and terrifying at the same time; you are only temporary. Long after I am gone, the space I occupy will be a canvas for something else. The things I do currently only really exist while I am here creating them, so I may as well create something. I may as well try and make beauty for people to see. I guess that source of inspiration is as good as I can hope for if I am trying to be honest with myself. There’s a beautiful song my Danny Schmidt called “This Too Shall Pass” that my dear friend Erik showed me, and I think the end sums up my sentiment, so I’ll just end with that:

The story goes, or the way that I was told
There was a king that always felt too high, and then he fell too low
And so he called all the wise men to the hall
And he begged them for a gift to end the rises and the falls

And here's the thing: they came back with a ring
It was simple and was plainly unbefitting of a king
Engraved in black, well, it had no front or back
But there were words around the band that said, "Just know: this too shall pass"