I found myself seeking that invisible force that breathes life into my words, strokes meaning onto my canvas and orchestrates the harmonies of my melodies. I am used to your elusive nature that adds to the allure. You come and go like a whispering wind, leaving traces that fuel my creative endeavors.
I need that spark that ignites my imagination when it flickers, that gentle nudge when inspiration wanes and the torrential downpour of ideas when the drought threatens. The mundane transforms into the extraordinary and the ordinary becomes a canvas for atypical tales.
Sometimes, you arrive with the gentle caress of a soft breeze, leading me into a realm of serenity where creativity flows effortlessly. On other occasions, you surge like a tumultuous storm, rousing the depths of my thoughts and urging me to capture the thunderous echoes of inspiration.
You, my muse, are both the melody and the silence between the notes, the colors, and the shades in my artistic palette. With you, creating transcends the physical; it becomes a journey into the realms of imagination and wonder.
I could not deny how empty and lifeless my thoughts are in your absence. My pen stops its dance, and I am left with a blindingly black page, a futile search for words to write. My brain stops its whirring. All there was was silence, not the calm quiet, but the deafening stillness.
