When the night falls, and the world dreams, my connection to creative energy comes into existence. Peaceful, quiet, with no pressures from the outside world, my only sacrifice: sleep.
It is then I paint. First, putting my hands on the canvas, and letting the energy speak to me. I begin to paint, first with deliberation, and then gradually progressing into rapid succession of strokes. I become a conduit for the painting: it is no longer only me.
When dawn's fingers gently appear, and I at last drop my brush with exhaustion, I finally see the work. Sometimes it startles me, often it makes me feel complete.
With that, I stumble to bed, complete in creation, covered with paint.