The anxiety of not having enough colors on the canvas before the black line cuts through. One doesn't need an infinite canvas to be bothered about variety and harmony. Dabbled brush strokes are also not required. Straight lines and curves which are part of circles will suffice.The hope that it is a composition more harmonious than any landscape because it reflects the authentic inner condition of the human self . Not the arbitrary sublimity of nature. Whatever has happened in life need not be regretted. Regret itself is another sharp edge just as every act is a line, every delay and doubt an arc and warm colour of all memories spread about like context caressing every failure and sin. With the black line in the horizon now embraced, there is always the obscure hope one feels before a Kandinsky painting.
