When I think that I can think no more

I have been basking in the eerie glow of my laptop screen, my mind as blank as the glowing screen before me.

Like the taps at Cape Town, my creative tap that occasionally drips a trickle of quirky tales has – to my dismay – dried up.

I am oddly reminded of Father’s bike that used to refuse to kick start on a cold winter morning.

I panic at a fleeting thought of ‘Day Zero’ – when my creative tap would dry out for good.

I wonder if I must choose to alternate cooking on odd days and engage the even ones in keeping up the connect between the creative tap and the well that churns mundane imperfections into bizarre tales.

I give up the idea at the thought of the husband and son enjoying greasy takeaways.

I wonder if Little Princess, who, I realize, has been frighteningly occupied, could shake up the dormant creative well.

She is seen creating ‘beauty’ in her room, that, for some strange reason appears as ‘mess’ to my eyes.

I wonder if this is what the ‘generation gap’ is all about.

Could it be old age setting in?

Just before launching into a careful scrutiny of my face for lines or worse – wrinkles, we clean up the creative mess and try something safer – coloring rabbits blue and the skies pink.

Luckily, lines and crow’s feet that are official markers to aging are yet to make an appearance and realization has dawned that creativity has little to do with age.

I am back behind the blank screen, my creative connection still undone.

I am beginning to empathize with the plumber who has failed to show up even after multiple calls to mend a dripping tap. Today, I love dripping taps.

While I am off on a quest for creative inspiration, let me know what you think of this one.

Dear Friends, Wishing you all a happy Sunday.  My heartiest wishes to  all those who are celebrating their New Year.