A moment of still frames

the more i take from the life i live i realize that i am an artist.

each new palette of life seems laid out before me, fresh and anew, each day. the colors at my hand's reach are vibrant and yearning to be used as the events from that day, each day, unfold.

is it weird that i feel, at times, i see life in still frames? photographs of captured life that surge and develop and thrive with each take, pictures that once put in sequential order reveal the lovelies in life.

i hear each sound and i sense each feeling, i know of the smells and my tongue relishes in the tastes of the days. my fingers itch to write each new experience, and yet when they do, the words never seem to suffice the craving of putting down on paper the glories and novelties of living.

music is everywhere in my being, it dwells deep in my soul. i feel i have a more intimate relationship with the chords and progressions of life than i do with some people. the symphonies in my head seem so seducing with their constant hum of overwhelming fervor and at times i am lost among them.

sometimes i become consumed by the power of art, its mystery and intoxicating beauty control me and my words, my actions, my art. everything breaks down..the whirr of the fan downstairs..the chirrup of the bird outside the window, the impatient clicking of the keys on a keyboard...

at times i see life in still frames, and i am compelled to write. and in my rushed anxiety to get the words out, the pictures come together, and i epiphanize the utmost sincere, the ultimate secret of life..

and am unable to describe it in mere words