Her body caught the last light of that setting sun, burning the sky a rich orange and cooling the endless sea into a myriad of shifting reflections. The muted sounds of the surf below them were carried on the breeze that seemed to give her dancing hair life. His footfalls were not silent enough to hide behind that symphony, though, and as he drew up behind her he heard that melodious laugh.

"I was wondering when you were going to join me."

He smiled, kneeling behind her on the still-warm grass as his arms snaked around her shoulders.

"I considered letting you wait a while longer, but I didn't want to miss the show."

She laughed again, the gentle vibrations echoing through her back and into his chest.

"It reminds me of that song you wrote years ago."

His eyes shifted to the fluttering pieces of paper at her side, kept grounded in the sea winds by an old empty wine bottle. The smooth surface caught some of the fading rippled light, throwing a few star-like constellations onto their skin.

He marveled at his love yet again. All these years past and she never lost those old songs, those snippets and poems dedicated to her: the musings of a tortured heart through highs and lows, always enthralled by only one thing.
She was humming the tune now, swaying with him from side to side in perfect time.

"I love your words." She muttered. He had long since lost count of the number of times this phrase had escaped her lips. "They paint everything I can feel and more. It's like I can close my eyes and see the scenes and hopes and desires at my fingertips…And they're so perfect, so…Right, that when I see something like this..."

She nodded towards the last sliver of light. It's final moments seemed to erupt as a golden fountainhead of fire-laced luminescence.

"...The art of the word spun across an eternal canvas; That the story springs from it; a thousand of your words spilling from the light."

~~~~

That's what it means to "Speak Visually". Every picture has a story behind it. Mixed into every color is a sentence, and in every line there is one more letter.

Art, to me, is all about conveying an entire tale; the whole of the experience, the emotions, the sounds, the sights, the tastes...In one single frame. We have long since used shapes and forms to tell what our clumsy, grounded words cannot breathe life into. Capturing that moment where it all seems so perfect, and the thought of any story besides the one written in ink, pencil, or pixels never crosses your mind.

Speak Visually, and the words could write themselves.