"Poetry searches for radiance..." goes the poem by Adam Zagajewski, and all day I, too, have been searching. Finding it in the poems of others. Not so much my own.
~ Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
And then there is the ebb and flow of creativity.
When there is an ebb - especially on a day that I've set aside, particularly for writing - I do what I can. I gather. I read. This poem and that poem. I take up a book by Woolf, today, actually it was The Waves. (Before this it was Jacob's Room). I take pictures, look at pictures - mine and those of others. I look at small things, close up. I daydream in my upstairs seat by the window. And at the end of it all, I might just construct a blog post, for my own sake, even if it says very little.