Again and again this moment.
Always expressing, what could be brought forth?
Ink upon paint.
A universe.
I wrote this poem after I finished reading "The Zen of Creativity" by John Daido Loori. It immediately felt incomplete. So I wrote the following response.
There only ever was just this.
Being just so, expression pours out.
The canvas is black.
Twitch, and create it all.
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