I have been around for centuries. I have been passed down from artist to artist. I help the current artist that holds me create masterpieces that are never forgotten. Leonardo di Vinci, Beethoven, and Shakespeare were a few of my favorites to work with. Because of me, many people are able to see beyond their own realm and create things that are still famous today.
I'm not allowed to talk to the artist, or course. That is my only rule. The work must be theirs. I just move the images in their minds to help their creative juices flow more freely. Often I am referred to as "inspiration," or "muse," but my true title is "The Pen of Perfection."
The current subject that holds me is a young mind of thirteen years old. His name is Richard. A good solid name, a creator's name, but his mind is clouded over with the laziness that technology has brought upon this generation. It is next to impossible to get him to stop looking at a television or an iPad screen, let alone be original. Technology has been nothing but hazardous to the human mind, I tell you. Try as I might, I cannot reach him. My first subject to fail to create while holding me in their hands; I cannot let this happen!
This was my moment. Richard had homework and was forced to move to a desk. I had to make my move. "Richard, you need to stop rotting the connections in your mind with these technological devices. You have a gift that needs to be molded." I said it. I broke the only rule of my existence. I spoke.
Richard's shock was to be expected, but throwing me out the window to meet tires screeching over me seemed a little excessive. If he had had any creative juices at all, he would have seen what an incredible device I actually am, not something to be feared and discarded. Young impressionable minds are being clouded over. It is my duty to save them. Maybe my next owner will not be so jaded to creativity.
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