So what do you do when you've lain in bed with your eyes closed for hours and sleep just seems over the horizon?
I pull myself out of our bed and pad over to the art room, where my yoga mat lay stretched out in the moonlight. I stretch out over it myself, tune into the plucking of a sitar, and relax into the sleeplessness. I realign my spine from its arc over long days, breathe away the anxiety built up from the drive of performance and responsibilities, and refocus my heart toward relationships.
I write letters to my sister and friends.
I think about the art I used to make in this room, and in the cool of the night, I wonder if I can coax that artistry back into my fingers. I miss the tactile feel of the fabric, the softness of a calligraphy brush, the tedious detail of tiny beads.
There is art to be done, a life to be lived -- even if in the darkness -- and a spirit in flux.
The night is long.
Tonight, the night is mine.