It is Saturday night, and I cannot shut off the muse. I laughingly recall the story from Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, when the narrator tried to shut down his friends who were talking late into the night. In retort, Carlo shouted, you cannot stop the machine!
I stopped painting once the sun went down and I lost the northern light through my studio windows. Now, cozied in my small library, I’m reading the volumes on Edward Hopper I’ve collected and loved over the past decades, waiting for sleep to overtake me. I’m glad it’s only Saturday night, because the hour has grown late, and I cannot stop the muse.
Thanks for reading.
I paint in order to remember.
I journal when I feel alone.
I blog to remind myself that I am not alone.