An empty plain is a void. Painting is making the skin of the void.

The skin has colors, textures, shapes, smells, symbols, and icons.

Painting is often called a skeleton of art, but it is rather like a preserved corpse.

Though I get imageries from different motifs like animals, human bodies, or childhood, 

they are no more than skin patterns.

Sometimes they are an important clue but mostly just a matter of preference or taste.

 

Painting is a work that decorates dead bodies of meaning.

As the red plane absorbs all other lights but returns red, the images are imperfectly silent and vomit sounds.  

Because their inside is void, the sounds do not make sense and end up as non-lingual babbles.

The contents would not be a great secret of the universe.

Because the sounds are so light and ambiguous, they may remain as an unsolved mystery.