It used to be that, the night was welcomed, its gift was sleep, an "off switch" for a day well spent, usually in the studio working on my art.
Sleep gave me time to dream and journey to places unknown, visit with faces long since gone and sometimes solve problems created during the waking, working hours. It refreshed and recharged me....now it threatens and taunts, with spasms and hot knives. What I would give for 8 straight hours of sleep, and to awake without an opiate fog dulling my senses.
