There’s a freedom you find in art, in creativity. It cannot be satisfactorily explained, really. But something in you changes when you find art that speaks to you. It’s like the doors in your mind are opened. It’s like when the windows are opened in an old, musty room. And suddenly, the air is fresh again and the dust all flies away. Finally, you can see the space the room holds. That’s what it is like. You find your heartbeat. You feel it, become aware of it. Energy cruises through your body. Energy to do something you didn’t dare to do earlier. It is electric. Passionate. Nothing else matters anymore and for the time being, you see and hear nothing else. It’s odd, isn’t it, that something inanimate can bring so much alive in you.


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