The Muse: Coming of Age in 1968

Fiction & Literature, Coming of Age
Cover of the book The Muse: Coming of Age in 1968 by DH Parsons, Bliss-Parsons Institute
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Author: DH Parsons ISBN: 9780996317658
Publisher: Bliss-Parsons Institute Publication: May 9, 2016
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: DH Parsons
ISBN: 9780996317658
Publisher: Bliss-Parsons Institute
Publication: May 9, 2016
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

True Love, True Art, True Inspiration: What does it take to find them?
1968 was a time of Coming of Age for the world, and for a young man awakening to his Life and to his Art.
Poised on the cusp of adulthood, DH feels that his life until now has been one of formless existence and vague desires—a life of imitation and emulation rather than of innovation and creation. What will it take to unleash his Art Spirit and to harness his Romantic nature? Will he ever find his Muse? The months that follow are revealed as a wondrous time of camaraderie, Art, and Romance that shape the unformed post-adolescent into a confident and self-aware young man and artist.
His art professor challenges him, asking,
“You think you’ll ever amount to anything, DH?”
With a little help from his friends, mentors, and lovers, he just might.
Find inspiration and magic in the adventures, aspirations, and fantasies of a young man Coming of Age in 1968.
Read his Journal. Read The Muse.
It’s about 1968.
It’s about Fellowship and Art and Art Spirit.
It’s about Finding One’s Passion.
It’s about Love Found and Love Lost and Lost Love.
It’s about Dreams and Aspirations and Inspiration.
“Holy bones of Beardsley, DH. This is a Genesis moment! ... And you and I are right here for the whole thing.”
“You’re a piece of work ...”
“Everybody’s a piece of work. ... the whole world is ... a great big canvas with a trillion colors on it. But don’t you love it?”
It’s her, I know it! ... My Muse! ... And she’s smiling at me! ...
... I followed the hot coals that were her eyes as she floated down beside me. I closed my own eyes ... when I opened them, I was still imprisoned by her Divine Presence.
“Thank you for coming to my dream, D”
“Paint, DH. Paint her. ... The paint keeps the dream alive, but it also kills the pain.”
“... Just show me the paintings! Don’t ever explain your talent, DH. Let the paintings speak for themselves.”
I know he’s right. He always is.

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True Love, True Art, True Inspiration: What does it take to find them?
1968 was a time of Coming of Age for the world, and for a young man awakening to his Life and to his Art.
Poised on the cusp of adulthood, DH feels that his life until now has been one of formless existence and vague desires—a life of imitation and emulation rather than of innovation and creation. What will it take to unleash his Art Spirit and to harness his Romantic nature? Will he ever find his Muse? The months that follow are revealed as a wondrous time of camaraderie, Art, and Romance that shape the unformed post-adolescent into a confident and self-aware young man and artist.
His art professor challenges him, asking,
“You think you’ll ever amount to anything, DH?”
With a little help from his friends, mentors, and lovers, he just might.
Find inspiration and magic in the adventures, aspirations, and fantasies of a young man Coming of Age in 1968.
Read his Journal. Read The Muse.
It’s about 1968.
It’s about Fellowship and Art and Art Spirit.
It’s about Finding One’s Passion.
It’s about Love Found and Love Lost and Lost Love.
It’s about Dreams and Aspirations and Inspiration.
“Holy bones of Beardsley, DH. This is a Genesis moment! ... And you and I are right here for the whole thing.”
“You’re a piece of work ...”
“Everybody’s a piece of work. ... the whole world is ... a great big canvas with a trillion colors on it. But don’t you love it?”
It’s her, I know it! ... My Muse! ... And she’s smiling at me! ...
... I followed the hot coals that were her eyes as she floated down beside me. I closed my own eyes ... when I opened them, I was still imprisoned by her Divine Presence.
“Thank you for coming to my dream, D”
“Paint, DH. Paint her. ... The paint keeps the dream alive, but it also kills the pain.”
“... Just show me the paintings! Don’t ever explain your talent, DH. Let the paintings speak for themselves.”
I know he’s right. He always is.

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