What to paint of this canvas?
“Leave it pure and plan for later, as to not waste its potential”
“Paint with the soul and emotion of he who holds the brush. His mind the palate”
“Take turns improving upon one another’s sketch, so we may all have a chance to pour ourselves into something collaboratively beautiful.”
Blank is the canvas of the world.
Desolate, lonely, and silent.
A stroke of the brush will scar in the most beautiful and deadly way.
The echoes and cries of animalistic sin fill the darkness of the pigment.
So chaotic. So balanced. So beautiful.
So pure is the canvas, only to be tainted by the unorthodox nature of the souls of the artists who now inhabit it. Let us paint.