Oh Muse? Muse? Where are you?

I go through this all the time. For years, usually. I just don't want to draw. At all. It's not fun. It's not therapeutic. It's work. And I don't want to do it so I'm not going to. Except I have to. You see, over a year ago the company had an auction for charity. They do this every year, auctioning off items like tickets to a ball game, or a clock radio, or a weekend stay at some bed and breakfast. Then the proceeds go to an employee of the company who really needs it. It's a good idea. Anyway, last year I was asked to donate a portrait of up to 2 people and I, being the kind of person who can't say no, said, "sure." We put a minimum bid of $75 on it. I was quite flattered when the bids started going up and up and, well, up. There's a sign-up sheet for each item that's posted for about a week and almost everytime I checked in on it there was a new bid. I think it went for $250. Great. Wonderful. The thing is, it's been almost a year and a half and I haven't started on it. The person who won the portrait gave me several pictures and has since retired. She hasn't said a word to me about it. But the photos are saying plenty: "When are you going to start? What are you doing, you lousy bum? Get going!" If she had only got me during the times of plenty, when my muses were dancing around my head constantly, sprinkling me with water from the wellspring of desire to create. Right now I'm in a desert. I just don't want to do it. Or maybe I just like things like this hanging over my head. Who knows.