It is silly to think of ink as just an object. Just as foolish as it is to think of an idea as a thought. It is the creator and creation. Two in one. The dreams we build come from our experiences in life. As we continue to develop those, they become ideas.
Inktober is us, and it is the remaining ink of an artist to pass to us. Today my challenge was roasted. It’s not a challenge though. It’s an idea, born from the experience of an artist before us.
It’s us, and it’s the same energy we possess. It’s no different from us at all. It was a product of its environment just like we are. Inktober is shaping your situation in your way.
We dismiss what we don’t know because we haven’t experienced it. I hope that I never feel I’ve reached the end of my experience.
I hope that I die before I see that day. It means my soul has stopped listening to the world. It’s heard all it can and decided it is enough. To me, that’s not living. It resembles a shell, moving across the world.