My words are so utterly powerless and weak today. No matter how hard I try or how much justice I do to writing, I will never be able to describe what I feel right now. My art will never be apt to contain the art before me. The camera, the canvas, the paper, none can do justice to this. I am so scared yet so delighted, like I saw death, left it behind and got acquainted with paradise, all in a matter of seconds.


As tears rolled out of my eyes due to the overwhelming surrounding and my emotional artistic nature, my partner comforted me by putting his arm around me. “Don’t stop breathing yet”, he said, smiling at me with his soft comforting eyes fixated on my face as he wiped my tears. I could see he was immensely pleased with the effect things had on me. I am a passionate writer and he, an ardent photographer. He captures the image and I try to capture the feel. Well, we are both non-professionals and unmarried but I think it’s better that way. This is not a romantic getaway but an attempt to get in touch with ourselves.

How can an artist stay away from nature and how can nature stay away from an artist? Nature has all the inspiration one needs. Right now we are at a very high altitude and all my senses seem so consumed by nature. I am nature. I can see clouds floating all around me and trust me, an airplane window is no comparison. My ears can hear a nearby river gushing majestically and declaring its intention of never stopping, out loud to the world. My lungs had never breathed as much oxygen before. The temperature is so low and yet I feel so comfortable. That’s very unlike me. I usually can’t stand a 24 degree air conditioned room for longer than an hour. What is this if not magic? Why would anyone choose to stay at home or spend on a holiday only to stay at a luxury hotel when they always have such bliss waiting for them?


I urge the painters, the writers and the artists to come out of their comfortable but boring environments. Moreover, I urge them to do something together, seek each other out, and see the same things with different eyes. Home is not where an artist belongs. It is time we talk to that lost part of our personality that wanted to be pushed out of the house, and into the ocean. It is time we allow ourselves to be emotional and sensitive like we were supposed to be, and feel this immense happiness and a sense of belonging in the arms of Mother Nature. It is time we start believing that even to this day, there are things out there that hold the potential to surprise and captivate us. All I want to do today is pray that every artistic soul discovers what I have discovered, first hand. Allow yourself to be consumed by the magic. All you have to do is believe in it.


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