Art Begets Art

I sit here on a Friday night, listening to loud, theatrical soundtracks with my headphones and smoking from a hooka, all the while finishing my novel. Aside from the realization that I have no life, I come to see how art begets art.

In order to “get into the mode” of writing, stirring those creative juices as it were, I see how music has the power to inspire. In reality, the eclectic mix of music I listen to has nothing to do with what I’m writing, yet it must stir something in me in order to spill words onto a page (or screen rather).

What a wonderful world we could live in if artists of all types could be put into a room and set into motion to inspire each other. Musicians spewing out the art hidden in sound, actors dancing onto their stage bringing to life their characters for all to behold… and then us writers, putting words to a page… weaving worlds, conflict and plot for our fans.

Yet, the machine that humanity has created… this thing called society, has been geared to reward other pursuits. It is ambition and opportunism that seems to get the biggest rewards. What a shame. So much beauty lost. So much beauty to never be manifested. Worlds without the yarn to be woven. We are but slaves to our primitive wiring it seems.

If we manage to evolve, I wonder if such a vision may one day become reality. When all the wars are behind us, all the plunder to be had, all the endeavors fueled by greed done… maybe such a world may one day be manifested.

One can only hope.

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