They flew throughout the night.  The stars wheeled around them, and faded and vanished as the dawn seeped up from the east.  The world burst into brilliance as the sun’s rim appeared, and they were flying through blue sky and clear air, fresh and sweet and moist.

(The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman)

The white canvas sits on the easel … untouched.  And the paint brush rests in our hand.

Tomorrow is anew

It’s never been before

Just like us