You are minding your own business.
Maybe you are plugged into your iPod, going for a run. Maybe you are just passing time on a bus, making polite conversation.
But then, suddenly, the world stops.
Something manages to break through. Something manages to make you think, or laugh, or cry, or dream.
Maybe it’s a lyric, telling you what you’ve been thinking, better than you’ve been thinking it.
Maybe it’s a whole song, with a beat so surprising, you stop running and wait until its over, just so you can hear it again.
Maybe it’s a painting, so old, it makes you think that paint lasts a really long time, and maybe paintings are not so hard to understand after all.
Maybe it’s a manifesto which reminds you that you chose this life. You chose the muddier path. And it isn’t always the easier path, but that’s kinda why you chose it.
Maybe it’s something someone says, after which, clear as day, they are holding your heart in their hand. The heart they just saw, or touched, or ripped out.
That’s the moment.
The moment when the world stops, and everything changes.
That’s the moment where I’ve seen my kind of art.
Image: Wikipedia Commons