night inspiration

The canvas sits blank in front of me. I stare into the bland whiteness of the infinite possibilities, and I get nothing. I have been up since 7 am and still nothing. I feel empty as I sit in my studio. I just cannot seem to get the ideas to flow. It seems that this is the case a lot lately. I get up from the easel and pour myself a drink. It used to be so easy, vivid pictures of life would just jump out at me. The brush and paints seemed to merge onto the canvas, but now nothing. I decide to let it go and catch up on some reading. I lay back on the couch and open my laptop. I go through some emails and then check my blog postings. The next thing I know, I am waking up to my girlfriends Shitzu licking my face. I ask her what happened and she said I came over and found you like this. I must have dozed from boredom as I was looking at my computer. I look outside through the skylight and see that the sun is fading. Dusk is settling in and I still haven't found anything to get me going again. I put my computer and the dog aside. I tell my girlfriend that I need to clear my head. She says fine what ever, just don't be gone too long I am going to prepare dinner. So I take the stairs down from my loft onto the street in front of my apartment. The sun is well on it's way to being down. It isn't quiet dark yet but I can see the quarter moon in the sky . I see that the daytime traffic has thinned out. There isn't much on my block in the way of nighttime activities. I look both ways and it looks like a half-lit desert. The neon lights from the few businesses that haven't closed up. I walk down the block to the local bodega and get a package of beer from the cooler. I head back to my apartment. As I get close to the building, a firetruck comes out of nowhere, it's light flashing but no siren. I feel mesmerized by the strobing red lights. It passes with a roar of its engine and a gust of wind filled with diesel exhaust. I realize suddenly that the streetlights are coming on, and my cellphone is ringing. I answer it and my girlfriend ask me where I am at. I say I am just outside the building. She tells me to get my butt upstairs before the food gets cold. I look around one more time and head up to eat.

It is 11pm and my girlfriend and the dog are asleep on the couch. I go over to the window and look out at the pale light illuminating the street. I am restless inside; I cannot forget the scene out of my head as darkness fell. The street in transition between bustling activity and the spareness of people. The lone firetruck headed to somewhere but not in an overt hurry as it only shined it lights but didn't scream get out of the way. I go back into my studio and sit down at the canvas. I stare at the blank abyss then suddenly as if by an unknown connection, I see it clearly. The lines appear before me and my hand has picked up a brush as if it were a part of my appendage. One stroke then another and still another, until finally the form of something comes into view. The street sits before me, its sidewalks illuminated by thin rays of light. A ghostly emptiness fills the void and small details begin to emerge. I look up at the clock above me, it is 4am. It is as if I have awakened from a dream. I want to finish the work, but the inspiration has left me. Also, I am mentally exhausted from pouring myself into the work. It is as if a part of my mind and spirit have going onto the canvas. I push back and head off to sleep. It is 10am before I get up and I am still tired. I am also restless and feel incomplete. I find a note on the refrigerator; my girlfriend left me food in the fridge and the dog is at the groomers. I am to pick the pooch up and meet her for lunch. I sometimes think that she cares about the dog more than me. I go full auto in eating and showering. My mind is still trapped in yesterday and I cannot grasp the last part of the work I haven't finished.

Lunch is pretty uneventful. The dog enjoys it more than I do. It was 1pm before she was able to get away from work. I spent an hour walking her little dander factory around boutiques and the park. The crazy thing had too poop twice. All the while, I am looking for something. I am seeking inspiration in the people having lunch or walking their pets or playing with their children. Nothing seems to be working for me. During lunch my girlfriend just talks and I stare at her blankly across the table at her. I take in her random prattling about her job, all the while my mind is going backwards. She nudges me from across the table, and I just smile as she gets a little irritated with me. This is nothing new for us, we have been together 2 years, and she is accustomed to me not being invested in a conversation when I am trying to find the end of a project. She then looks at me and says that she is going out of town on business. She says I have to take care of her dog, which is her code for our dog as it spends half of the time at my loft anyway. I tell her okay and kiss her from across the table. I take the dog by the leash and watch as she walks back to work. I look at the dog and put my plate on the ground. The dog pulls the Ruben apart eating the meat and leaving the rest. I just put the plate back on the table, leave a tip and walk back to my place in a daze trying to figure out where to go next.

Day ends and night comes. My girlfriend stays the night, and I take her to the airport the next morning. She is gone and I am left with the dog. I am staring at a half empty canvas because the picture is only half done. I cannot fill in the blanks, not yet. Part of the image is lost in the process. I spend the next evening staring at the canvas, but nothing jumps out at me. I feed the dog and decide to take the fire escape to the roof. I sit on top of the building and look up at the sky. The stars are obscured by the city lights, so I cannot see the natural light as much as I would like to. Then around 2am it begins to rain. I head back downstairs and go back inside my apartment. The dog is paws up on the couch and I am watching the rain come down. There is no thunder or lightning, just a steady flow of water. Then around a quarter to 3 it stops. I look out as the last drops fall. I can smell the night air. It has been cleansed a bit. No odors of the city, just clean air. I look up and down the street and see water running off of the sidewalks. I see puddles in the potholes sitting undisturbed as the reflect images of the surroundings. I am not sure what clicks inside of me, I just know something has come alive again.

I am back in my studio, sitting in front of the canvas. The brush has found my hand again. The deserted scene I started with is now lined with reflective images of puddles. Instead of lights and buildings, the images of people can be seen inside of the puddles filling the street. While the street is still quite empty, the mirror of the pooled water tells a different tale. Ghost of people peering into the reflective pools opens a door to somewhere else. I take care to get every detail, every nuance of the images in my head, until the sun begins to come up and exhaustion finds me. I put the brush down and stagger towards a place of collapse, but then the dog stirs up from a restful night of bliss on the couch. So I turn on the coffee pot and wait for it to wake up. Then the smell of Columbian roast fills the air as the dog scratches itself waiting patiently for me to get revieved. I drink only one cup so as to revive myself but not to the point that I cannot sleep. Once I am sufficiently awake, I take the dog for its morning constitutional. An hour later, I am back upstairs, the dog helps itself to the automatic feeder and watering dish. I turn on the tv to keep the animal company as I collapse into a recliner. I disappear into a void of exhaustion, all the while the unfinished canvas haunts me. How will the story end?

My phone buzzeses me awake around 3 pm, it is my girlfriend. She tells me that the meeting has ended earlier than expected and that she can get a late flight out if I would like her to. I rub my bloodshot eyes and tell her that the dog misses her. She scoffs at me and I tell her just text me the details and I will get her a taxi. The childish chiding is part my weary brain and part lovers banter. Despite our difficult relationship mostly on my account, there is a true bond there that isn't so much spoken but understood. She says she will text me the details and for me to not sell dog the before she gets back. With that the line goes silent and I slump back into the chair. Once again, I am looking for sleep, but this time it doesn't come as easily as before. In part because I am just too tired and in part because my mind cannot finish the final piece of the puzzle that is haunting me over the painting sitting idle in my studio.

By 6pm I have given up on sleep and head to the shower. While I am washing off the remnants of a night of inspiration, my phone has buzzed 3 times. I get out half soaked but with a new sense of invigoration. I respond to the first message as got it. The next two are don't be late and I miss you. I dry off with an oversized towel, the kind she prefers not what I am particularally fond of . I respond to the last to messages with I am at the terminal waiting already. She knows that this is a jab at her coming back so late. I then say woof I miss you too and that is where it stays. I go into the kitchen and scrounge for something to tide me over. I don't want to eat too heavily because I know she will want to get something on the way back. I then look at that wretched animal just panting as if to say can we go out now. So out we go, the light of the day waining. I take the dog for a walk but it doesn't take as long this time. I am back inside just before 7pm and I get myself together. I have another text, she is airborne and will be in soon. I leave the dog with the tv for company, not that it really cares, just something we do to humor the mutt. I am down stairs and over to the garage where I keep my car. As I pull out of the parking space and head to the airport, I notice the birds sitting on the lip of the garage. They have their backs turned to me and are watching the street below. I drive out into traffic and head to the airport. All the while I cannot get the birds out of my head. After I retrive my girlfriend, it is fast approaching 10 pm. Just as I predicted we have to stop at a little coffeeshop on the way back. I sit with a cup of coffee in front of me and a tuna on whole wheat as she spins her story of her business trip. She throws in a jab about some guy hitting on her to see if I am paying attention. I just smile and ask was he rich? I get a napkin thrown at me and she resumes her talk. It is now a quarter past 11 and she is winding down. I am not even tired, in fact the exact opposite is true. I am focused on the birds. Just the birds, gauking down from their perches. I take her back to the loft and let her out. I go to park the car and as I get out of my vehicle, I walk over to the edge of the parking deck. I look over and decide that isn't sufficent to satisfy my curiosity. So I climb up and dangel my feet over the edge. I am now peering 3 storys down onto the street. I sit for a long time, until a city bus comes by and shakes me out of my trance. I climb back inside and go back to my loft. Once inside, I find my girlfriends stuff parked in the living room and a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom. There in peaceful serinity, she is covered with a sheet and the dog has settled into my place right next to it's mistress. Taking up my space as if it were the lord of the manor. It actually doesn't bother me as I am not tired but filled with ideas. Once again, I head to my studio, images swirling in my head. A perspective on the painting that I am now sure I can finish. Because in the darkness, I have found the light of inspiration.