Why Is Art?
I think I know what it is, but why does it come into existence?
In today's world of ephemera spinning like snowflakes through our digital consciousness, can art still hope to achieve permanence?
Art isn't something that I choose. It's something that chooses me.
With any luck, when I've finished a piece, it will also choose someone else. A viewer, a listener, who feels a living connection with it. For how long? Who knows. Does it really matter?