Oil on Canvas, Impressionism, Ethereal
The world fell away as I whizzed past another cloud, then another, and then another. The sun was so bright. I was just a speck in the sky, I flew to a moment were a bright light reflected against the clouds. The world was a pure as a white canvas. There was both everything and nothing. I felt so free, and so alive. I was a bird, soaring through the sky. I was a cloud, floating through the atmosphere. I was the only thing that existed in my world.
I focused on the sunlight that reflected off of the white clouds. It began to take form, like clay in someone’s hands, or paint on a canvas. It was beautiful; it couldn’t be compared to anything else. Maybe everything did begin with this beauty.
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