Mathemagenic

It's harder than I imagined, to be alone. I suppose I might get used to it, like an empty canvas you slowly begin to fill. [The Samurai's Garden]

And then feel it emptiness, almost scary, as white space is promising and teasing, never telling you what is about to appear. Then drafting, trying out and retreating, looking for motives that would take over the emptiness, would engage white in a slow dance with colours. And then feeling it coming, searching for the right shades and strokes, slowly, as walking on ice, being afraid of a wrong move that could spoil the picture that is starting to emerge... Then getting confidence, diving into it and letting your passion to drive you through as this is the only way to turn empty canvas into life... And then...

...then looking back not being able to believe how far the invitation of an empty canvas could take you...