I have always loved drawing, writing, and other creative projects. From a young age, I knew I was an artist—but what gave me that definition? What is art, really? A quick google search reveals several different explanations: the expression of human creative skill, the various branches of creative activity, a skill at doing a specified thing, and more. These vague definitions didn’t give my mind the closure I needed. After years of thought, I have come to the conclusion that art is simply translating feelings into a tangible form.
When an emotion is too heavy for an artist to carry, they find some other way to make it known. They don’t always know what they are expressing; sometimes the entire point of producing art is to clarify a vague feeling. If words fail to embody the feeling, some other method will have to do. Artists have an uncertain, restless anxiety about a concept that demands to exist in a concrete form. Additionally, that form can be translated back into the feeling if it meets the right person.
Painting a town dipped in sun doesn’t describe the town nearly as well as it describes the painter. Writing poetry about the horrors of war gives more insight into the poet than the war. And sometimes, every once in a while, you’ll see artwork that is an exact reflection of a piece of your own soul. Now, that part of you is a bit more defined, a bit sharper, and a bit easier to explain to others. That artwork doesn’t have to be a revered painting or a poem. It could be lyrics in a song or the way a character is portrayed on television. It could be a line from a children’s book or an aesthetically pleasing outfit.
There is no right or wrong or good or bad art, there are only different types and expressions of emotion. Art is based entirely on the artist and their perception of the world around them, so it shouldn’t be invalidated by other people. If you don’t like it, it wasn’t made for you. I’ve seen people criticize works of art with the famous, “So what, I could do that.” Yes, but you didn’t. You didn’t have that thought, and you didn’t decide to spill it out into the world. Even if an artist uses a reference photo and copies its exact likeness, there are half a million unique styles to achieve the goal.
Most of the time when I draw or write, there isn’t an emotional burden lifted off of my shoulders. I create art because it’s enjoyable. However, there are other times where my head is heavy, and, being on the verge of an emotional breakdown, I grab the first piece of paper and writing utensil I see. Without a single thought, I translate my aching heart into something physical. Those pages will never see the face of another human, even so, it’s a relief to give voice to my otherwise invisible soul. My work will almost certainly be erased the next day—erased, then scribbled over, then erased again and thrown in the garbage. Maybe the relief comes from knowing that if the right person, somewhere, did see it, they could understand.
No one would… but someone could.