There was a time when a bird landing on one leg would prompt a pensive verse, when a drop sliding down a glass of iced water turned into an ocean under my magic pen, when an elderly couple holding hands summoned the avid poetess within.  Today I stare at the fan. At a blank page, at empty walls that would’ve been filled with quotes and colorful visuals. An empty space used to send me searching for unique artistic expressions to grace the void that surrounds me today. My foggy brain and anxious hands can’t come to an agreement. But it’s about time an executive decision is made by, I’m afraid,…