Art can be our compulsion. It’s the thing we feel like we have to do or we’ll die. It can be our dream. It calls to us, but despite a deep longing, we can’t quite get to it.

Those are two extremes, and there’s plenty of middle. In the end, we have art to help us bring meaning to the world. We use it as a way to connect with each other and the strangeness of life.

It is, therefore, a refuge. Art is a journey and a destination, too. But even exploring the darkness, it compels and comforts.

Wherever you are on the scale, its refuge opens equally, evenly, invitingly.