Years ago, I saw a print that I fell in love with, but I couldn’t afford it then. I wrote down its title and artist, but lost it. I thought it was a John Waterhouse piece, but so far, I’ve never seen it in any of his collections. It featured a child writing at a desk at night (if I remember right, it was a blonde girl writing with a quill). Above her head, open window stutters lets in a swirl of sailing ships and other things that swirl down to her.
I hope someday that I find it again. It was a beautiful piece and I think about it whenever I’m hoping my muse will tell me what to write.