Imagine a world similar to our own but stripped of something fundamental, something so integral to the human experience that its absence leaves a void that is nearly impossible to even picture in your mind’s eye. This is a world without art, a place where colors are irrelevant, where stories are merely a string of facts, and where melodies have no ability to affect our hearts, nor communicate something larger than the realm of speech.
In this world, there are people like you and me—except they move through their days with a weight they can’t name. They wake up to harsh buzzing sounds instead of songs, their walls are bare concrete, and their evenings are spent in silence, devoid of interior design and the warmth of a relatable tune after a rough day. They are people with dreams that flicker dimly, for they have nothing in their surroundings to mirror the vastness of their inner worlds.
Consider the young girl who has never felt the swell of pride from a scribbled drawing pinned to the refrigerator, or the boy who has never known the catharsis of pouring his heart into a song that might be heard by no one but him. Think of the countless souls who go from cradle to grave without ever knowing the joy of creation, of making something that did not exist before, something that says, "I am here, and this is the mark I leave.” Imagine never fulfilling that insatiable impulse deep down inside to just make something, anything.
In this world, cafes are silent and the coffee is the same functional black water everywhere you go, made by a single company because there’s no reason for more than one. Buildings are all the same—functional, cold, their walls unadorned, telling no stories, expressing nobody’s aesthetic choices. You never have the pleasure of stepping inside and marveling at the artistry and craftsmanship surrounding you. Everywhere you go, you only look straight ahead because you know there’s no purpose other than to get to where you’re going.
When imagining a world like this, it becomes obvious that it couldn’t exist this way. Even without recognition, without fans and followers, the act of creating something, anything, is an act in congruence with our very nature. For every unseen sketch, every unheard melody, and every unread line, there exists a testament to the human spirit's indomitable will to express, to reach out, and to connect. There is a reason we feel so elated and connected to something larger than ourselves after having crafted materials into a form that previously didn’t exist.
The absence of art in such an imaginary world paints a picture of meaninglessness. It highlights the intrinsic value of every artistic endeavor, no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential. Each creation is a beacon of light that says, "In this vast, often indifferent universe, I exist, I feel things, and I have something to say.”
As a child, this creative expression is readily apparent from the moment we begin using our voice and body. Nearly every child you see is inclined toward a form of art-making. This often represents the single biggest difference between them and most adults.
The Struggle is Real
As artists cross the threshold into adulthood, their journey often takes a sharp turn. The world they enter is one dominated by currencies and commodities, where value is measured in numbers and success is quantified by financial gain. Suddenly, the pure joy of creation finds itself overshadowed by the looming pressure of monetary success, or to simply survive. The once-clear and natural path becomes clouded with doubts and fears as the artist confronts a society that frequently questions the practicality of a life dedicated to art.
This transition can be jarring. The freedom and encouragement to explore and create, which perhaps once seemed limitless, now face the hard walls of economic realities. Rent, bills, and the cost of materials become stark reminders of the pragmatic side of life, often pulling artists away from their passions. The question of "Can I afford to be an artist?" becomes a constant companion.
In this new world, the artist battles not just with the canvas or the blank page, but with the very concept of value. What does it mean to be successful? Is the worth of their work only valid when translated into financial terms? It’s a struggle that can dim the brightest of passions and turn the act of creation into a battleground between the desire to create and the need to survive.
Yet, it is within this very struggle that artists often discover a deeper resilience. The challenge is not simply to create, but to redefine success on their own terms, to find balance in a world that often seems to pit financial security against creative fulfillment. It’s a testament to the courage of artists that, even when faced with these hurdles, they continue to produce works of art that touch the hearts and minds of others, or at the very least—provide clarity or catharsis within themselves, proving time and again that the value of art transcends monetary worth.
To the artist who doubts the worth of their work, know this: Your creations matter, not because you might have the approval of paying customers, or because you get a ton of ‘likes’ and ‘follows’. In a world teeming with noise, your art, no matter how quiet, weird, or abstract—is packed with ripple effects on the world and the way you operate within it.
Nothing you do is actually invisible. When you walk away from a finished piece, even if you burn it or delete it afterward, you operate in society with new actions, a new perspective, a release from stress. You gain a sense of connection with something larger than yourself.
If you can make a living from your art, that's fantastic. Just remember, financial success is only one among countless indicators of the value that stems from your drive to create.
Ask any adult who doesn’t spend any time deliberately making things, or considers themselves “not creative”. Nearly 100% of them will tell you they wish they learned to play an instrument or that they were creative in some way. They are no less creative than you. They have simply forgotten where they came from.
Remember, in a world without art, we lose more than just the art itself—we lose the reflections of our souls, the echoes of our minds, and the connections that art fosters between us. Your art, in any form, is a gift to this world, a world that, without it, would be dead and meaningless.
So paint, draw, write, sing, code, create—not for the praise or the audience, but because you must. For in doing so, you affirm that in this vast and complicated world, your voice matters, and your art is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a reminder of the beauty of simply being alive.
wonderful writing buddy, will be sharing this one with my friends in the morning
Well put LW. Thank you for reminding me that we all have something to give no matter how visible or valued we are.