Why wreck a blank canvas?

Why wreck(rek) a blank canvas(ˈkanvəs)?

By Derek Sivers

At the last apartment I rented, everything was white on white when I arrived. White walls, counters(ˈkoun(t)ər), table, furniture(ˈfərniCHər), and carpet(ˈkärpət).

So I took it one step further(ˈfərT͟Hər), bought five blank canvases, and hung(həNG) them around the apartment. Especially one big one, right at the entrance(inˈtrans,ˈentrəns).

Visitors would get upset, saying, “You’ve got to put something there! You can’t just leave it blank! It needs color!”

I’d say, “Good point. Like what. What do you imagine?”

They’d say, “Y’know, like some bold(bōld) splashes(splaSH) of dark red, but not too heavy. Something with clean lines.”

I’d say, “Hmm…. I’m not sure what you mean. Can you describe it more?”

They’d stare(ster) at the blank canvas a bit, and go into more detail about what should be on it.

Eventually I’d say, “Nah. Not going to do it.”

“Why not?!?”

“The reason I love the blank canvas is because it makes everyone daydream. The process of imagining what should be there is much more fun than having something there already. There have been a hundred paintings imagined onto that canvas. It’s got unlimited(ˌənˈlimidəd) potential. It’d be a shame(SHām) to wreck that with a bunch of paint.”

—

The blank page starts with unlimited potential. But each word you add reduces its possibilities.

Same thing with that business idea you’ve had forever.

Or that beautiful person you haven’t spoken with.

So maybe you should just leave them in your imagination, where they’re at their best.

https://sive.rs/blank