Inspiration challenges me at the time when I am engrossed in the routine of life,
as if by design. I cut a sorry figure and feel its smile fading around me with an assurance of return but no confirmation of when. The moment gets lost and with it I lose all that I could been used for creating out of that moment of inspiration. The reality knocks, there are end less moments endless creations the glass has become empty after it has been filled all is there yet nothing is there, what one can do with this fulfillment or this lack. How I can I know which I know.

Azal