I have not been up early or late enough lately. Only awake for the day, when it is light, and the whole rest of the world is awake with me, telling me what to do. It is in the dark where I used to find space to stretch out, but since setting my morning alarm, and getting to bed early enough to get a full eight hours, I have spent less time in the dark. That is where I used to find my inspiration. The dark is chaotic, but it is also creative and full of mysterious possibility. Whereas the light is clear for all to see—the title on your desk placard, the name on your name tag, the features of your face, the messiness of your apartment, the trash on the sidewalk—it can all be seen, accounted for, and set about the business of the day. But at night, all bets are off. God knows what people are doing. They should be asleep, and if not, then what? Where is the traffic cop to tell the hoodlums not to cross the road when the light is red? But there are no cars. Where is your boss to tell you to be at your desk during work hours? But the lights in the office are off and nobody is there. Where is the sun to say the day has started and it is time for you to be awake? But I am already awake, sun, I have beaten you to it. And the moon has told me what you would not. I will return in time, and when I do, I’ll have something new to show your day.