“I am here? Why aren’t you here?”
Nothing. Of course there is nothing there, at least nothing that is visible to the mundane senses. I look again at the empty corner of the room to which I had directed my comment, straining to look with my heart instead of my eyes.
Now I can sense what you may be thinking;
“Is he describing the moment at which he finally lost his grip on reality?”
Well, I have to admit that the thought has crossed my mind, but in the end I have decided to embrace the connection I have started to feel about an attendant source of inspiration. It was an idea I had heard from a bright and compelling writer whose take on creativity really spoke to me, and so I have tried to find the good grace to allow for the possibility that my creativity is if not entirely from without my being, that it is at least enhanced and perfected by an unknowable external force.
“I need your help, now more than ever”, I said to the corner, “you know this is what you’re here for.”
Just as I was about to give up, it was there.