Once, there was a child...
This child was as simple of mind as any other. She was not biased by experience. She was not burdened by worry or care. She had only a blank canvas, and some paint.
She tried many things. Many ideas flowed through her mind as to how to put paint to canvas. Yet, be it flicking, splattering, daubbing or stroking, none of her efforts yielded what she hoped for. Shapeless blotches were not enough. They held no meaning.
What did she want? What was she trying to create? She had never thought about it. Should it be happy? Sad? Comforting? Frightening? Did she want something peaceful? Or was chaos a better choice? She did not know. They all meant so much to her.
What about all of them?
She had made up her mind! She would put all her thoughts and ideas into this painting! It would be a painting so vibrant, detailed, and complex that it would be a world all unto it's self! She took up her favorite brush. A brush which she had crafted her self. A brush that held a part