‘canvas’ – some kind of metaphor

I love this kind of metaphor


There’s a canvas. White, pristine and unmarked; a blankness that seems to stretch on forever. Almost seems a shame to leave a mark, but that’s what it’s there for. A few splotches of colour settle onto it, breaking the spell. These strokes are foundational, basic, the first impressions of a young mind whose sense of wonder and discovery have yet to be broken against the cruel shores of reality. As time goes on, more is added to the canvas. Likes and dislikes decide the tone of the following layers. Routine, familiar faces, your slowly expanding perception of this world. Along the way powerful moments that influence you deeply, whether you know it or not, leave their traces, guiding much of what will be added. The years pass and now more intricate lines appear as you begin to draw your own conclusions about the world. They may be influenced by lines…

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