art consumes me

Art consumes me. Every brush stroke, every note, every syllable that falls in sync. I breathe the hues through my body as the image aligns and I can see the emotions the crafter was feeling. Each key played in perfect harmony, the minor chords ring through my heart and pump my blood with the melodies of the forlorn master, hard at work on ivory keys. Language sings and sways, choreographed through my mind filling it with images and emotion so real, characters form from my imagination, different facets of what it means to be human, to exist. Words bridge the gaps left by emotion. "What do you think of this piece?" I must experience masterpieces, I have to consume art to exist, but Art consumes me.