Ode to a Passionate Stranger.

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The most beautiful smile I ever saw came from a passionate stranger sitting in the midst of Richmond pitching his dreams. He was not forceful nor was he anything but himself. In a small cafe he finger painted ideas on walls and tables and his chair could never simply be a chair because he could barely keep from throwing himself into his concepts, it was more like a catapult. His chair was his platform, and he was the motivational speaker who was too big for one town alone. He would seek inspiration in street art and never would his mind overlook the passion of another. Everything he saw was insight into dreams of which he may never indulge in but always could relate to. You meet people like this and it makes you want to alter yourself because they are unable to ever settle for complacency. They capitalize off every learning experience and it leaves you wondering why you’ve been standing in one spot looking at the same painting, trying to figure out a set meaning when there are billions of other paintings and endless interpretations. His smile was beautiful because it was relentless and tenacious and everything but mediocre. He had the type of drive that made you want to learn more because compared to him you barely strayed from the confines of anything. 

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