There’s a frustration to his expression. He reaches and reaches for the right words to express the meaning behind his thoughts, but seems the message lost too easily in the endless words he seeks to communicate it. He wonders if there is a language that can accurately express what he wants, why it is that thoughts can’t be said as easily as they can be created. It’s a barrier to finding his place in the world, to finding those who understand him and those he can understand.
He occasionally wonders if he is alone in this, or if the whole world was the same and because of that no-one could realise they weren’t alone.
Fleeting glimpses of stories pass, objects of beauty, poignance and complexity created and destroyed simultaneously in every moment. The ability to capture and express these stories, so that others may glimpse the beat at the heart of the universe. Perception defines reality, not the other way around, and it is the ability to express it that raises one up from the mediocre to the magnificant, from relegated to respected.
If only he could find a way to express but one of the stories, completely and elegantly.