We have to have art.

It is our only excuse, our only virtue, our only release. We invented gods so that rich and powerful humans who have no problem with destroying everything would pause before destroying it.

We have always, as long as we have been human, made it, kept it, cherished it. Sometimes some of it survives for millennium and we marvel, “look at this, they had art too. How strange it is” or “how beautiful”. But it is no less nor more than what goes on in some way for every human who is not a slave.

Hope that we are not all soon to be slaves. Hope that we can give the powerful some reason for protecting the activity of making it. Hope that, like dreams, we can find the peaceful respite that we need to experience it.

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