good ideas only come at night

I tore the page from its binder and ripped it to pieces, not wanting to be associated with the scribbles I had left on the sheet. To call that abomination 'art' would be an insult to the craft, and it was better for everyone that the letdown never see the light of day. Having done a favour the creative field, I picked up my pen to restart the project I planned to create. But my hands froze. The vision that had initially prompted me to start my craft had evaporated, leaving behind a foggy abyss as clean and white as the fresh sheet. Seconds ticked into minutes, which then dragged into hours. Before I knew it, the sun had gone out, and pale silhouettes of the cactus branches and aloe leaves that lined my window sill fell on the still-blank page. Blithely, I thought that the succulent shadows would make a better piece than anything I could ever come up with. Annoyed at being outdone by indoor plants, I shoved the book back into my drawer and skulked out of the house. Cold autumn air immediately greeted me as I stepped outside, but I trudged on without bothering with a jacket. I made my way to the empty park and spread my back across the freshly-cut grass. The heavy cloud that had smothered my psyche seemed to scatter into the void as I tossed my gaze to the heavens. starlight specks the skies constellations weave a grand tapestry of night The firmament spread across my vision like a black canvas, and the twinkling asterisms roused ancient memories. I saw Cassiopeia walking down the beach with her favourite daughter; eyes gleaming with pride, she declared how Andromeda's beauty surpasses even Aphrodite. Little did she know that the majestic swan gliding across the nearby shore was the goddess of beauty in disguise. Enraged by the queen's hubris, Aphrodite sent forth her servant to bid her vengeance; a fish-tailed goat leapt from the waves, absconding with the beautiful princess. The goat left the princess upon a rock, where, at high tide, the great sea serpent Cetus would emerge and devour her. But Perseus, riding on the back of Pegasus, flew down the coast of Aethiopia to slay Cetus. He rescued Andromeda, and was rewarded by her mother the princess's hand in marriage. As the couple began to leave the divine amphitheater, I stifled a yawn and pinched my earlobe to keep myself awake. Orion would be coming next – he's about to face off Cretan bull – it would be a waste to fall asleep now. I should have brought my book and pen so that I could at least penned down some fragments of the cinematic visions from the sky before slumber takes over. Because I know that the moment I close my lids and let the to sun rise, the muse's songs would once again disappear, like dew at dawn. in the dark, they speak the midnight tunes resurrect dreams slain by the light