Marks on a bit of paper

So this is what it's all about, this thing called painting?
A struggle to put down some colored scratchings on a paper plane. Of course, that plane (whether paper, wood, canvas or wall) needs the credibility of thickness (a surface that will not easily slip away) and some sort of defined border to signify an end to the marks made (this is only a personal choice/condition).
The first colors and shapes seem to go down easily, in an almost subconscious manner. This is structure enough fo me to build on-or should I say, to erase, to add to, to paint on, to glue to, to white over-however and whyever that surface gets "built". This part gets easier or more frustrating for me-my shapes and colors slide around looking for anchors-those anchors being other shapes and colors that work well together...but the frustration (as well as the challenge of working with the unknown, with the unplanned) comes in when nothing gels and masses float around the paper plane, lost-looking for a likewise mass to relate to, to anchor to, to formulate what might be called a painting. How easy it all sounds, but how very tough the going can be.
What comes to mind is a weaving process, retelling tales until the story is somehow complete, whether meant only for the storyteller or for his lovers and strangers.