Every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction.

                                                          -Pablo Picasso

I would have to be uncontrollably angry when I do this, to produce something so personal but expressive. There would be a day where I will set up a huge canvas in an empty room. There will be cans of paint. Every hue, every shade, every emotion. There would be balloons, sponges, paintbrushes, & most importantly my hands. And at that particular moment, I would let myself go. Bonkers. Splashing my hands in various vibrance and transferring my frustration towards the blank canvas. Filling up balloons with the thick coloured paste and pegging it in every direction. Just imagine if your blood was boiling with anger, how would your masterpiece look like? In the end, there would be a day where there was no longer a huge canvas in an empty room but a small canvas in a room that is no where near empty.