Late Night Creativity (or really early mornings)

There was a moment sometime yesterday night (well it was actually this morning to be honest, really early this morning), when I was trying to decide if I should keep writing the story I am in the middle of, or if I should go to bed. Now there are several things that should have made it easy for me to go to bed. (1) I was tired, (2) I am dealing with my lovely cold still and a very runny nose (thankfully the throat is feeling better), (3) my hand was really sore and cramping up from writing so much, and (4) It was 2 am. However, despite all of these really good reasons that should have made me go to bed, I was in a pickle. 

Artist live on little sleep. I know it seems cliche. We see pictures of a painter late at night agonizing over that last brush stroke and the composer writing the last bar in candle light. If you watch too many movies (like I do), all the best art seems to take place at night. Shakespeare finishes his greatest play when the moon is about to set. Mozart is writing his last piece in the candle light. When I was in college matinees seems strange because they were in the middle of the day and theatre was suppose to be at night. I'm not sure if there is something scientific about the creative brain that makes it lean towards work late at night, but I am sure someone could test it and prove that it is something to do with how the right side of the brain works.

So last night as I was trying to decide what I should do, the choice came down to which cold medicine should I take. Nyquil would make me sleepy and very groggy the next morning (making that five hours later when I needed to be up very difficult). But if I took the regular decongestant I knew I would not sleep, instead I could keep writing. I hate stopping my creative juices from flowing. Even when I was in college I had a hard time balancing sleep with that huge paper I needed to get finished. Luckly I tend to be able to pick things up where I leave them, as long as I make sure that I keep at least part of my mind on it. And to be honest I was a little stuck (I get stuck a lot when I write). 

So Nyquil it was. Sleep won out over my creativity. My cold and sore hand and the 2am hour, worked against every little bit of me that just really wanted to keep on writing. I wonder what Shakespeare did when he was in the mist of the story. Could he stop? Did he write until he no longer could keep his eyes open and his hand could no longer hold a quill? I do wonder if all artists find themselves working best late at night. Are all artists night owls because of their creativity?