My muse sits between my desk and the window, she basks in the afternoon light. As an offering, we place fresh flowers before her, she appears to close her eyes and sigh and drink in the color and the light and the smell. If she is inspired, I believe, she will inspire me.

In the flow of the creative spirit, one feels the divine life force coursing through the pathways of existence, through all desires and ambition, all feelings and emotion, all worlds, all thoughts, all nations, all creatures. I follow the pathway to my heart and soul, it will guide me and inspire me, at night my muse is silent and unreachable, gone into a deep sleep.