For my Muse� I just heard the voice�
That led me toward the light.
No Angel was he, but a guide,
The sound set my soul to flight.

Though the face familiar
And visage known to me,
The sound of the low and sultry voice
Plunged deep; too deep to see.

So strongly did it affect my heart,
That, at once, did I sit wrapped,
Inside that transcendental space,
Which he so easily mapped.

He is my drive, inspiration, my muse,
That at once did change this heart,
From that of timid, self-conscious, stalled,
To one who seeks a start.

The creativity locked away,
Hid itself so deep
He, with his slow and sexy key
Gave it back to me to keep.

So, beyond that handsome, pleasant frame,
That so often I adored,
Concealed a voice, that I now know,
By me won't be ignored.

Love, O Love, - You are a man
That I may never know,
I want to thank you, and tell you too,
My esteem will forever grow.

But if someday, I have the chance,
To stand in front of you,
I hope that I can return the gift,
And touch your heart, for you.

Now, once you all have read my rhyme,
And the subject, you know well
Your judgement upon me for such trivial means
I must, this moment, dispell.
For it is not so very important
Just who my angel is
But for the door he opened for me,
The credit's forever his.

I wrote this poem roughly a month ago, when first encountering this man�s voice in song. It so touched me at that very first note, that I was reduced to expressing myself in verse, which is wholly outside of my writing experience. I understand now what it means to be inspired by the work of a Muse. One note, and I wanted to compose sonnets to illustrate the deep, emotional waves I was feeling. No amount of verbal expounding could possibly touch the vast universe of creative drive that I had, but it didn�t stop me from attempting.

Now, you may ask, why am I writing about this again, if I�ve already set it to verse. I yearn to share with others a desire that has arisen in me to thank this man, this beautiful and talented man, for the universe that he has opened up to me. I do not know him. I have never been in his presence. However, he has, and continues to be, a driving force behind so much of the change that my life has undergone in the last year and a half.

My life in the last year could read like a fiction. In fact, the coincidences are incredibly uncanny at times. But I assure you, Fair Reader, that every word is true, and the story still goes on, even now� And bear in mind, the ultimate credit for the occurrences that place me where I am now, go to God. For, I am now conscious of the fact that I have been watched over and gently guided throughout my life to the people and things that I needed to encounter. Sean is but one of the effective tools utilized to get me where I needed to be. So, with that stated�Let me share with you, in the briefest manner possible (I know, too late.), aspects of what has happened to me, and continues to happen. Afterward, hopefully, you will understand the poem for what it is�A sophomoric, but immensely heart-felt thank you, to a man that has acted as my inspiration and my muse.

My first notice of him took place while flipping channels at my parents house; an episode of THE YOUNG INDIANA JONES CHRONICLES. Interest was immediate, because I am an Indy fan (movies exclusively up to that point) from way back. This interest sparked a desire for some online research�which led me to an article. By the time I discovered the article, I had rented or bought a few of his movies and was fast devouring them all visually. But it was that article that really sealed my fate.

I fell in love with him, so to speak, upon the discovery of his article in JANE MAGAZINE in 1998 (if you haven�t read it�check it out on this website.). It was an instantaneous descent into an amorous state over the type of man that could have written that article. Whether it was true or not, mattered little to me. See, if it was true, he expressed an endearing obsessive behavior, not dissimilar to my own�An understanding of the emotional attachments that I have felt for others. If the story was fiction, then he, as a man, had touched on just the breed of emotion that most male writers are unable to achieve.

(I am no mush monster�I do not cry at long distance telephone commercials�I am not easily in tears. But that story made me cry.)

These events were the point of departure, from whence my obsession began. This, is more than likely, not much different than many of you started your fascination with our beloved. However, combined with the situations taking place in my life at the time, this infatuation became the perfect catalyst.

I have existed as an historically un-ambitious type. And when it became necessary to enroll in a Screenwriting class as a requirement for my Film degree, (I had perpetually only considered that I would be in a sort of studio secretarial role upon graduation�given my career-long administration experience.) I was interested, but not convinced that I could, indeed, actually compose a screenplay. I mean, really, people who create films do that, right? Me? Consider writing? Insanity. Nonetheless, I enrolled. I found that I was not terribly intimidated, because the instructor was a friend, and my advisor. I was self-assured in the fact that my effort would outweigh the results, in determining my grade. So, I set about ruminating on the subject matters I could set to paper.

Easy. They say, �Write what you know.� I am movie-obsessive, and have been my whole life. My fantasies have always revolved around movies and movie characters. This is where �our boy� comes in. As a model to the type of male fictitious character I wanted for my story, I looked to Sean. He and several other favorites became the visuals and the voices to my characters. This was the first benefit�He was my model. And I pondered the project in terms of how utilizing his image, it could be simple to get through the task at hand. And as no surprise, it worked. The story flowed from me like a vast river. (�And we shall flow a river forth to thee��)

He, as my inspiration, was the driving force behind taking the effort seriously. Ultimately, it has led to me continuing in that project, and at this particular moment, I am in the process of finishing up a screenplay that I will endeavor to sell to Hollywood. My chances? Well, they are better than they would have been if I�d never ventured forth. And in addition, I have obtained some interesting contacts, through my SPF obsessing, which promise to prove helpful through advice and guidance, as well as through a realistic viewpoint of the processes of the mainstream Hollywood system. But I�m getting ahead of myself, a little.

My research, and fascination with our boy, Sean, propelled me to the renting of the film, THE BOONDOCK SAINTS, last February, upon its video release. Put simply, I absolutely loved (and still do) this film. He was wonderful in it, of course. And Lord knows I can watch him in anything. However, there was so much more to this movie. Willem Defoe and Norman Reedus were impressive, and David Della Rocco�awesome. I set out to introduce everyone that I encountered to TBS�and over a span of only a couple of months, had purchased on the upwards of 20 copies for family and friends who expressed desire to own it.

But when I began my delving into the particulars behind the film, I was awestruck. The writer/director of the film, Troy Duffy, was new to both screenwriting and directing. He was a musician, who had been inspired to express a story in screenwriting format. This man had no background in film, nor had he ever had the training in Film. In fact, it has been stated that he had never considered Film as anything he would be interested in prior to writing TBS. However, the most amazing part of this to me was the fact that an outsider to the Hollywood establishment, had come in and set it all aroar. Miramax and Newline cinemas fought tooth and nail to sign this guy. Huge deals were made. This was incredibly inspiring to me, and worked to bring that typically other-worldly existence of Hollywood down to my plain of reality. Even more so than the study of Sean had accomplished to that point. (In combination, the two men together gave me double the hope.) If this guy could succeed�if he could make his movie�then BY GOD�I could, mine. From the articles that I read, this down-to-earth type was plain-spoken and unyielding in his desires to present the film the way he pictured it. That meant taking on the likes of Harvey Weinstein. Kudos, Man.

My love of the film, sent me to Internet Movie Database (imdb.com) where I set my writing skills, and drive to encourage others to view the film into the form of a review in the User Comments section of the TBS page. (You can view the review at ) That was March of last year. This year, in January, I received an email message from a being, claiming to be Troy Duffy. This person told me that he had just read my review, and wanted to thank me for my kind words.

Now as you can probably garner from my speech, this little lady is no fool. Excited, though I was, I was also extremely skeptical about the source of the correspondence. So, I pondered how to respond. The end-result was a desire to contact, but not to be taken in completely.

So that I don�t carry this article out into novel form, I will try to synopsize the rest as best as possible. �At the end of the day�, I found out that the man behind the email, was indeed Troy Duffy. I�ve had the opportunity to get to know him some, and have been given the gift of considering him a friend. I�ve learned an immense amount from him in this short period of time, and I get the occasional story of behind-the-scenes events on the set of TBS. This man has complimented my writing and has encouraged me to maintain my course, while all the while, helping me to bear in mind the type of establishment that exists in Hollywood.

In conclusion, Fair Reader, all of this has sprung from one source. One man has been utilized, in my opinion, by God to lead me from inaction to action, from stayed to ambitious, from strictly practical to creative, from wanting nothing special, to wanting everything that I am deserved. So, to you, Sean, wherever you are�My thanks to you abound! And I hope to someday get to express this in person.

The future looks bright! Your friend, Christian St. Connor