The canvas spent three years sitting atop a bookcase as the creative mind pondered on creation. When the canvas, big, but not too big, was finally lifted it was placed onto the table. Dusted off. It was covered in dust, a thick grey layer of grime.
The creative mind had been thinking about what to paint. Waiting for inspiration. A creative mind should never sit waiting for inspiration to strike. The mind waited too long.
The blank canvas now hangs on the wall leading up the stairs. Each day the creative mind looks up to it. Each day the creative mind is reminded of what could have been.