i convinced myself that i am not really an artist because i dont have the words for that one moment when you look up and catch the dogwood tree that is in full bloom brushing up against the magenta and burnt orange and indigo sky and you feel the magic so big in your soul and there are no words for it.

i hated myself because i figured if i were truly a writer i would know the words.

but today i realized that there truly arent words for it.

you can tell of the experience and hopefully remind other people of the magic and touch them that way.

but sometimes if you want to give them the magic, you have to go about it another way.

sometimes you have to get inside the magic.

sometimes you have to be a part of the magic.

sometimes you have to sing the magic.

and i can do that.




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