I'm going to start off with taking a big, deep breath here...

For a long time I wondered why art was such a big deal. I'm still trying to comprehend just what it is about visual stimulation that really stirs up feelings and emotions, but I'm getting closer now that I'm older and I am allowing myself the time to wrap my mind around such concepts.

I have a friend I used to hang out with from time to time and she would tell me about these books she's read, pictures she's spent hours looking at and appreciating, and I would always be thinking in the back of my mind "why bother?"
When I was a bookworm it was because I wanted to escape my school surroundings and live out my fantasies through the characters in so many science fiction and mystery novels I got my hands on at the school libraries. It never occurred to me that the next obvious step was to start reading books that weren't so blatantly self-fulfilling so that I could expand my viewpoints.

It's such a knee-jerk reaction to me to make things as comfortable as can be for me when I'm realizing that I need to have more "stretching" in my life. Read those books that make you think. Look at that canvas and try to glean the inspired purposes behind it. Take the tunnel vision that life gives me and create something that's beautiful and meaningful to me instead of waiting for nothing.

I think the difference between those who look and those who actually see is that willingness and ability to accept the view and demand more vistas.

I think that I might actually be learning here.