Because it’s a new beginning.
It’s an invitation to create. From nothing. It’s a place where my brain can finally output in freedom, its colors, its swirls, its magic, its unending rants. The scents of the future and the past can fall right here. The paint from my fingers can drip one drop at a time. Whoosh across the campus and then back again. The grains of the sands of where I have been is sprinkled, no wait, flung from one corner to the other! The taste of sweat as I move quickly across the campus.
The words. The figures. The stories I tell. The souvenirs. The careful placement of objects. The composition of frames, the border, the layers, the dividers.
I hold it all close and stand back to admire it. I press a button. Maybe two. Maybe three. It transforms, rotates, and turns. I filter. I unfilter. I twist a knob. I move a single object. A push. No, two pushes. A nudge.
I twiddle more. My heart falls. My head hurts. The fingers want to rest. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work.
And now I look, it’s no longer a blank canvas. And this is where I want to stop and start again.