Seed

BLANK.

EMPTY.

VOID.

The barren landscape of an empty canvas stretches deep into the horizon of imagination. The bare, white corners poke and prod at the fire of the soul. The untouched surface begs to be breached, broken, decorated, and designed. Paint me, make me, create me. 

Ideas flow in and out of my mind, visions dance along the canvas' edge, thoughts flood my existence.

What to do, what to paint, what to make, what to create?

and then.....

There it is.

The inspiration.

The idea.

The seed.

And in that moment of creation, nothing else matters.

Mix the paints; turn the soil.

Sketch the shapes; plant the seed.

Paint the base; begin to sprout.

Spread your roots (keep painting)

Spread your branches (keep painting)

Sprout your leaves (keep painting)

Grow

keep painting

Grow

keep creating

Grow

Grow 

Grow

the canvas is in

Bloom.

And when it is said and done, when the tree of creation is in full bloom, the canvas is no longer empty. 

Where a tundra of white possibility once was, now stands a forest made of art.

The vision; the seed.

The brush; the sun.

The paint; the water.

The canvas; the soil.

With seed, sun, water, and soil out comes a tree.

With the vision, brush, paint, and a canvas out comes beauty.

Fill your canvas.

Fertilize your mind

Let your tree grow.

Let your imagination flow.