The world is chaos. Our thoughts are chaos. Sometimes we sit down on a bench on a busy street, and look in wonder at a flower. Or we think of an experience we have had and try to give it meaning, and in doing, try to give life itself meaning.

This is art.

It’s a moment of beauty, wonder, or pain captured in time.

It’s a dance for the senses. It’s a sea of color that makes to us, is pleasing.

We look at, or hear, or feel thousands of things, but every so often, ONE of those things get our attention, and time stops. For some reason we pay attention. Like a pitch that has a certain frequency to make telephone wires hum, it resonates our senses. It makes us hum. We can touch our essence.

An artist sees these things all the time. They enjoy it so much it becomes their life. Maybe they just want someone to witness what they see. Like the stranger you walk past on a beach, and they stop you and point to a whale bursting through the water.

It’s a rest stop from a long train trip.