Over the past few weeks I have been trying to find a way in plain english to describe the rare moments I see. Feeling somewhat inspired this morning I wrote the below passage in an effort to describe what I believe to be indescribable. It is a bit over the top with a few existential sprinkles, but I like it.
Time is everywhere. There is no escape from it, nor is there an absence or way of halting its flow; time is an absolute, a universal authority. Our perception of reality is a flux of irrational moments composed of slivers of time. Reaction, response, emotion, intuition, and feeling define experience, yet occasionally a moment transpires where reality becomes surreal and dreamlike. A place where time loses meaning and the world stands still. A moment where eternity exists for a brief occasion to tempt you with sensations of beauty and revelation, leaving only a melancholic vacuum in its wake. I chase these slivers of time trying to catch smoke with our bare hands, never realizing when I have captured my prey until it has vanished.
Even after writing this I feel like there are so many more ways I would describe the feelings I get when I am in a "moment". In this way I feel like art is very much a constant chase toward the unobtainable. A philosophic pursuit much like that of happiness. Then again the cliché "the journey becomes the adventure" definitely applies as well.