Gemotions

The afternoon sun poured through the studio window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He watched the man turn, his shoulder baring the intricate detail of his "Celestial Navigation" painting. A wave of exhilaration flooded him, so intense it was almost painful.

He had poured his heart and soul into that piece. To have another person embrace it in such a profound way—it was a gift. The tattoo artist was cleaning his equipment, but the man was still grinning. He knew he'd created something meaningful.

He wanted to shout, to sing, to do anything to express the electric energy coursing through him. He decided, instead, to offer the man a glass of water.