Almost a blank canvas.
A portion of the painting complete, so far so good.
A mix of vibrancy with a hint of the dull in there for parallelism, for antithesis.
So much canvas left to fill, yet so little colour left to use.
It seems as though the stocks of vivacious ecstacy have been depleted.
An odd mix of colours seem to have blended into a dull grey on the pallet.
This art shall have to adapt, simply in order to to create a masterpiece. if only in my own eyes.
I'll stare at the canvas for what will seem like forever, planning out a design, a formation.
Although every thought that comes to mind, the cracks begin to show instantly, the flaws of the portrait leak through.
The temptation to give up on my work is rising, cut up and burn the canvas, toss it away.
Forget it.
A few mistakes have been made in the art, paint that cannot be amended.
The picture starts to look stranger and stranger as I stare at it, parts of it i don't remember painting. It all seems to blend into itself, creating a haze of colour. A haze of confusion.
I have no idea what to do with my art anymore, until some colour comes my way the rest of the canvas shall have to be a dark scene of shades. Hopefully I can make the best of what I've got, the provisions available to me.
A mix of vibrancy with a hint of the dull in there for parallelism, for antithesis.
So much canvas left to fill, yet so little colour left to use.
It seems as though the stocks of vivacious ecstacy have been depleted.
An odd mix of colours seem to have blended into a dull grey on the pallet.
This art shall have to adapt, simply in order to to create a masterpiece. if only in my own eyes.
I'll stare at the canvas for what will seem like forever, planning out a design, a formation.
Although every thought that comes to mind, the cracks begin to show instantly, the flaws of the portrait leak through.
The temptation to give up on my work is rising, cut up and burn the canvas, toss it away.
Forget it.
A few mistakes have been made in the art, paint that cannot be amended.
The picture starts to look stranger and stranger as I stare at it, parts of it i don't remember painting. It all seems to blend into itself, creating a haze of colour. A haze of confusion.
I have no idea what to do with my art anymore, until some colour comes my way the rest of the canvas shall have to be a dark scene of shades. Hopefully I can make the best of what I've got, the provisions available to me.