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Hands. Her hands were beautiful.....or at least she thought so. Long and graceful, her fingers were meant to make the notes on her sheet music sing. But lately it seemed as though the notes wouldn't flow. Lately its seemed as if her fingers had forgotten the fingerings.

"What's wrong with me?" Leaya said in quiet disdain, staring at her hands the refused to play the sonata that she had played so many times before.

The gleaming baby grand sat in front of her waiting to be played almost in vain. For how can it make music if the musicain, herself, does not play?

Lilly watched the leaves drift softly to land in heaps on the dead grass. Autumn was a favorite time of year and it was the best time to be outside. She sat swinging her bare tanned feet in the brisk evening’s air. She sketched silently it was a landscape of the tree in the yard, and from her perspective on the edge of the porch she could only see the tree.

She hand danced across the page and as she drew her eyes sparkled and dulled as she changed pressure on her pen. The drawing came together quickly but in the wrong form again. She yelled loudly and huffed her breath. She tore the page from the sketch pad and threw it to the slightly damp ground.

I gave a start at the abruptness of Leaya's voice. No, not just the abruptness, but the sharpness of it. That sharpness that could only mean one thing. That sharpness I was so familiar with - I would probably have sounded like it to someone calling me.
"My my," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Someone sounds disgruntled." I gave a wan smile. "Something blocking your flow, dearest?"

I rolled my eyes as I walked to my bed and flung myself on it.
"Har har," I said sarcastically as I stretched out on the bed, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder. "Anyway, I'm having issues, too. I don't know what the hell the problem is. Words just don't wanna come to my head. I wonder how Lilly's doing," I wondered with absentminded, friendly concern.

Traigéide had the sneaking suspicion he had intended to do something rather important with his time today. Instead his tight jeans were rolled up to his knees so he could splash about barefoot in a small stream. His simple, undyed linen tunic was belted with a zebra striped sash of green and pink and his accessories were a clashing jumble of oddities. A copper torque so old it was fully green with patina adorned his neck and vied for attention with two long rows of gold hoop earrings ascending in size from ear tip to lobe. Rings of sliver and gold jarred against one another from each finger and thumb, fighting to be seen past a jangle of bangles both wooden and metal. Some of the jewelry is new, much of it old, and a few pieces very, very old. Every piece glittered in the sun prompting Traigéide to dance upon the slippery rocks underfoot, watching the myriad reflections with childlike glee. Oh, what was nagging at his mind so? He could swear he'd meant to do something. Well, until he remembered there was no harm in a bit more dancing!

Lilly jumped down on top of the now soiled paper and started to walk. She walked until her feet hurt from the pine needles under foot and she could hear the gurgling of the small creek that ran threw the nature park. The creek was were she liked to go to get inspiration and lately she could not draw anything. Over the sound of water she could hear voices. Male by the sound. She held her breath and stepped out from the trees and looked down the water a ways until she saw him. He was glorious. All detail nothing to spare and far to much to be called goddy. She tried not to shriek and run after him, only knelt and opened her sketch book. She hoped she could capture his dancing and liveliness before whoever he was he decided to leave.

Her well worn hand danced across the bleached white paper. She watched him carefully and smiled slightly. He was perfect, everything exactly right. She was half done with in seconds and she pulled her brush and set of water colors from her pocket and dipped the brush in the river. She splashed the paints and started to add light and color to her sketch.

Desina put the end of her pencil in her mouth and stared out the window,trying to find some inspiration in the cloudless skies above.
Her music sounded brilliant,she was sure of it,but it just didnt feel right,the songs were perfect,but the passion just wasnt there.
I might be having an off day,its entirely possible.
She wondered how her friends were getting on,she was doubtful that they were having the same kinda trouble as her,but you never know.