Painting in Purple and Red

I don't tell anyone else about it because no-one else can see it like I can: how the paint spreads away from my lilac finger-strokes like birds flitting from the nest, flying over the wall from one side to another and resting along the skirting board until it plops onto the carpet... it swoops, soars, swings... I don't know how to explain it to other people. They don't understand. All they see are streaks of paint. I wish they could see. Their life could be a lot more colourful that way. (A brief character study of mine, spanning multiple chapters.)