Art

art – why?
I mean really, what for?
Search for beauty and harmony, distraction from unhappiness and lonely pain and emptiness?
Or just random creations, one giant cosmic folly ?
That seems unlikely! There must be a reason, a purpose, or a motivation, why otherwise even bother?
A need to fill the void?
Maybe. Just being is not good enough, it’s too scary.
Screaming silence.
So rather producing art, some sort of a healing, working through something which is even not clear to me what it is and to what degree, but I hope to see clearer in the future, eventually.
And then I’m not really sure, if that is art and if this is a good thing in the end or if I just prefer to pretend, maybe ignorance really is bliss, the seduction of the sweet kiss of instant oblivion.
Art also might be just a way to pass the time, a gift from the Gods, who we created in the first place and then later feared.
For a child art is a way of having fun, not a whole lot of meaning to it as such, just to follow a feeling of freedom, walking down an unknown trail full of surprises into some kind of wonderland.
That sounds just wonderful to me. I’ll go with that.