There is something very strange with an empty canvas. Its artificiality, perfect corners and flat textureless surface feels lifeless, like a book with no words. It stares at me and asks “show me your life”. How do I show you the parts of what I am and what I’m not when I see nothingness stare back at me. Then the canvas says, “close your eyes and paint”. So, I closed my eyes and began to paint.
