My mind is a blank canvas.
Closing my eyes the colors start to fade in. Shapes and movement fill in the gaps. The picture becomes clearer. A flawed view of the world as I see it. Blemished beauty stunning to behold.
My mind is no longer blank.
It’s overflowing and spilling now onto the page. My words made real. These words are shown to you. Now your mind is filled. Filled with the pictures from my verbal canvas. See them?
See them moving, swirling, dancing, laughing, living, free. Free for all. Free to be. Be everything or nothing at all.
That’s the beauty of words. The beauty of thought. The beauty of blank canvases.
They can be whatever we choose. Ever evolving. Different. Perfect.