It was officially gone. Both mind and the pieces of junk laid empty on the table. Adam had been staring at the table for six hours now, even skipping dinner with his father and aunt who was visiting from North Carolina. He had bouts of non-inspiration and at times it could last months and he was fine with it, for the feeling in his gut told him it would return, this time even that feeling was absent.
He stands from his seat to stretch his muscles, take a spin around the shed trying to form his mind to an idea. He considered switching medians, perhaps a pretty water color of a rainbow or something more unusual such as Tengu. Adam pulls off his canvas paper from the shelf, begins to thumb through the pages. His mother and Joan their faces both filled the pages, Perhaps a picture of them. He tosses the canvas aside even that inspiration well was dry.