Gemotions

He stared at the blank canvas, the pristine white surface a vast expanse of potential, but also of intimidation. The art project, a series of experimental sculptures, was supposed to be a creative outlet. The idea of picking up a hammer was something he’d rather postpone.

The morning had been spent browsing art blogs, reading reviews, and generally avoiding the physical act of creation. The studio felt cold and empty, a silent judgment on his procrastination. He knew he had the talent, the ideas, the materials, but the impetus was gone.

A curator called him, asking to meet with him. He had been so sure the curator would want his work, until he arrived and found the curator already reviewing pieces from another artist. The curator was interested in the other artist, whose art was identical to his own. Both the other artist and he were working on the same concept.