Tongue-tied

Language is an incredible medium of expression. When in the proper hands it can be so powerful, so moving...and when I am faced with such expertly crafted prose or speech - though I am awed and flooded with emotion - I cannot but feel inadequate. For, I've not mastered this medium of communication - or any, to be fair - and it saddens me. I cannot be alone in this; there are worlds without number, existing only in the minds of their keepers, for our expression can never properly illustrate their depths. I long for the talent to describe in vivid and comprehensive terms the way my skin feels when I am walking through the city on a brisk morning, or the way the narrowness of european streets and the amazing variety of shops lining them, create such an intimate feel for those passing through.

These descriptions are somehow beyond me. I am dissatisfied with my own recollections, when it is that I write or speak of them. I notice it especially now, since I have been travelling. Seeing so many unbelievable things and trying to find some way to relay to my family and friends, but constantly falling short. I want them to be able to see what I have had the pleasure to see but the only way for them to cultivate some image is if I can somehow find the words...