A Captured Thought

I could hear music. It sounded distant. People scattered about, gathered in groups of various sizes talking, the center of the auditorium filled with people dancing, an array of smaller tables located in the four corners of the large room with several hundred of our friends and neighbors dining, and the view all started to appear as one of those wildly wicked paintings. The kind of painting that seen from a distance seems quite normal, but the closer you get to it you realize it consists of individual paint dots. Dots unconnected, except when viewed collectively made something whole and recognizable.