At the end of it all, The Void returned, now white as fallen snow. It swept across The Great Canvas, consuming all in its path.
In the destruction, there was absolute chaos. In the emptiness that followed, there was absolute order. Both found harmony, in the end, and everything was still. Silent. At peace, forevermore.
Battles long past, alliances forged, the endless struggle of order and chaos, all lost to time, like footsteps in the snow.
So ends The Great Canvas. -- Anon Guest
[AN: Link leads to 2022's r/place, which may contain some images that might offend you]
This is the way creation ends/ Creation ends, creation ends/ This is the way creation ends/ Not with a war, but in silence...
Controversy for controversy's sake killed some of it. Marketability killed more. Entrance fees, as always, were a suppurating wound in every muse's theoretical body. But what really killed innovation was what made art bloom in the first place.
Money.
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