I dream of paper landscapes
in which I can alter
with the simple slide of a brush
allowing just a little credit to the ideas
of feng shui

once it gets old and unsightly
and my view does not match the picture
it is easily enough blotted out
coated with another layer of paint.

It's become three dimensional instead of two
because of my fussing, my indesicion
or slight changes in taste
and it builds with each alteration.

each time it seems
I wish to start again with something
clean and unused
so that I may lay something else
more original, or more suitable than before.
but I was only allowed one canvas.

but when I set down the
fine pointed brush, I wonder
if it would look better untouched
what if I brandished my first idea?

and then I come to realize
there are no answers
that reaffirm themselves.

whatever influenced the
refining process drove me here
and, at times, I recognize I am in danger of
over correcting
or leaving something bland,
without enough detail.