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I wonder if I am alone, and if it is just me;
but when I stare at a blank piece of paper, do you know what I see-
beyond the obvious, of course, beyond the blank slate that it appears:
I see a doorway, a window, a potential muse to new frontiers.
A blank sheet of paper, that at first seemingly has no depth,
is bigger on the inside, and to me is as rejuvenating as life’s breath;
while on the surface appearing flat, white, and pliable,
a blank sheet of paper’s ability to go anywhere or anywhen is undeniable.
From the first word written, from the first brush stroke of paint,
there is no force of nature, or any conceived physical restraint,
that can bound the imagination of an artist or a writer
when presented with a sheet of paper and an idea.
Their is no artist, poetic, lyricist, or musician,
whose imagination engine would not go into ignition,
when presented with a single A4 sized blank slate,
with the opportunity to write and to create
something brand new, something never before heard, seen, or read-
artistically, musically, or poetically, trying to unravel a loose thread
that began as a thought, and then became a reality,
turning that once blank sheet of paper into a formality;
because in no time at all it is in itself a work of art,
that was simply waiting for you to create it, and unveil it from the start.

TARDIS

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