“In a world that for the most part steers clear of the whole idea of holiness, art is one of the few places left where we can speak to each other of holy things.” Frederick Buechner, originally published that in Whistling in the Dark.
Art is about speaking a thousand words with one photograph. It is about concisely speaking directly to the heart in a line of verse.
Questions arise along those pathways of connection like: What is love? Why am I here? If I am just an animate being, lost in a huge universe, why is justice so important to me? Can the serene, stillness in a forest in winter be an accidental phenomena? Can a universe with such tight constraints on its very existence be an accident in time? What really is consciousness?
Whether they admit it or not everyone’s life is, in part, guided by beliefs they cannot prove with chemicals and a Bunsen burner in a laboratory. Everyone worships something or someone as Bob Dylan’s so cogently pointed out in verse. For me that choice is of paramount importance. It’s what makes me whole.