beginning my studies the first step pleas'd me so much,
the mere fact consciousness, these forms, the power of motion,
the least insect or animal, the senses, eyesight, love,
the first step i say awed me and pleas'd me so much,
i have hardly gone and hardly wish'd to go any farther,
but stop and loiter all the time to sing it in ecstatic songs.
when i read this poem last night i felt like whitman was saying what i am always trying to say in this blog, and in pretty much everything that i write: that i am in love with this thing called living. that i am enamored with the breath of it, and blue of it, the being of it. that i love mashed potatos and guitar solos and van gogh's insane art. that i love watching nature shows and sunsets and independent films. that i love eating and sleeping and staying up late and getting up early and playing and working and moving. that i love shrimp. that i love intellectual debate and sentimental agreement. that i love what it is that gets sort of glued together into this thing called life. and, like whitman, i am so enamored by it, i just want to sing it, write it, tell it, collage it, type it, photograph it, say it.