A blank canvas, waiting to be filled with color. A blank canvas, pure and untouched, ready to be changed. A blank canvas, hestitant and unwilling to be changed.
A painter, filled with ideas, drowned in his own creativity. A painter, naive and clueless, but all the more ready to work.
Painter, an aspiring artist, full of creativity and wonder. Standing in front of his canvas, he paints the "skies." A canvas, tainted with blue, but still as bleak and lonely as before. Thinking to himself, Painter paints the skies with white. Pure and unadultered, endlessly roaming around, free as can be. An inspiration! He starts to fill the canvas with colors, yellow for the bright sun, brown for the untapped soil , green for the lively plants, and a dark blue for the vast oceans. A light breeze forms, lightly swaying the grass as it runs along the land. A calm landscape, calm but uneventful. Thinking, he paints a pure white moon, constantly hiding from the bright sun. As the sun chases, the skies and laid bare as the moon quietly replaces the sun. standing by itself, the moon turns the clouds gray and the skies black. The endless expanse of black, frightening as can be, the Painter paints it with white. Contrasting the endless expanse of black, and shrouded in a veil of unending mystery, the stars are born. An endless cycle, constantly repeating as the canvas is filled with color.
As the Painter grows bored, he starts to think, now using a variety of different colors, he paints trees and flowers. Green, brown, white, red, blue, colorful and full of hope. As he thinks and thinks and thinks, he draws the season. He draws spring, a time full of color, vibrant and youthful. He then draws the dull summer, the unending fall, and the bleak winter. The seasons start to change, filling the canvas with life and vibrancy before turning it lifeless, deplete of hope. Wanting to give his painting more life, the animals are born. They live peacefully with one another, relying on the land for nutrients, until one is killed and eaten. His blood taints the ground as a vicious cycle starts to occur amongst the animals. Some remain faithful to their roots, consuming the plants as before, but some start to crave for more. As they grew and grew and grew, their hunger started to get the best of them, as they violently pounce on one another, violently tearing their flesh away and tainting the canvas a deep red. As the Painter sees this, he weeps and cries in sorrow as he watches from above. What has been done cannot be undone and the vicious cycle starts.