HEART-SCAPINGS: A message for artists

	Each time we wake up
	we paint the canvas of our minds

	What colors do you apply
	to your personal studio inside? 

	Do you stain its fibers with ochres of fear, 
	jagged crimsons of hurt, 
	or muddy bisters of resentment? 
	
	Or do you enable softer 
	and more joyous hues to arise?

	Each tint has its own virtue
	yet no single one is the whole of you. 
	
	Find that threshold  between sleeping & waking-
	which holds every color in suspension.

	Be the master of your own canvas -
	creating the visions you wish to see
        
	But never forget: 
	all artworks eventually crack and dry 
	and all images fade into larger weaves.

	Soon enough, we will all face a vast, 
	stillness of an universal opaque screen:
	entropy is our destiny.

The gallery seemed still, smelling faintly of old linseed oil and settled dust. Jules reclined
against the wall, his posture casual yet charged, one eyebrow arching like a question mark as he
scrutinized the final stanza.

"So," Jules drawled, in a voice aced with skepticism, "do you actually buy into this? This
notion that we’re just… painting ourselves into existence, only to crack and disappear?"

Miok hesitated to answer. She traced the edge of her wine glass, her gaze fixed on the
floorboards as if searching for a stray brushstroke. "I’m not sure," she  admitted, her voice
trailing off into a contemplative hum. "There’s a part of me that finds the formula a bit too
polished. It’s a very 'neat' way to describe the mess of being alive, isn't it?"

Cantara, who had been standing undividedly still like a statue infused with ancient wisdom,
suddenly exuded an electric energy. Her eyes held a strange conviction. “We mustn’t
underestimate the weight of the social fabric that binds us,” she murmured, her fingers
tightening into delicate fists. "The tapestry is heavy, yes. But," she turned to Tim, her gaze
piercing and profound, "we must never overlook the sheer, terrifying power of a solitary mind
determined to change its own color."

Chris chuckled dryly, shaking his head, as if trying to physically brush away the gravity of her
words. "And there it is. We could loop this thread until the sun comes up and still find
ourselves tangled." He turned toward the bar, dismissing the conversation with a wave of his
hand, his chin raised defiantly. "What’s really needed isn’t more metaphysics—it’s a glass of
perfectly fermented, artistically crafted wine. Let’s find some truth in a bottle instead."


=====================================================================================
from Heart Scenes: Emotional Landscapes via Art, Poetry, & Prose by T Newfields
While debating whether the "canvas of the mind" is a profound truth or a simplistic metaphor, 
four friends find that the only thing more complex than the art of living is the effort required to discuss it.
Long-Summary: A philosophical discourse on existence, creativity, and the search for meaning through art.
Short-Summary: Some thoughts about self-determination and determinism.
Keywords: landscapes of the heart, emotional colors, self-authoring, nihilism, creativity, perception, metaphysics, social fabrics

Author: T Newfields [Nitta Hirou / Huáng Yuèwǔ] (b. 1955 - ?)
Begun: 2009 in Tokyo, Japan ☆ Finished: 2020 in Yokohama, Japan
Creative Commons License: Attribution. {{CC-BY-4.0}} Granted

Disclosure: This piece was partially generated using AI tools for styling and ideation; 
            human editing was then applied.

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TRANSLATIONS

Chinese    https://www.tnewfields.info/zh/xin-feng.htm
Japanese   https://www.tnewfields.info/jp/k-fuukei.htm
Spanish    https://www.tnewfields.info/es/c-paisajes.htm
Thai       https://www.tnewfields.info/Translations/Orathip11.htm