Sometimes I think art is just the human way of surviving ourselves. When words choke in our throats, a brushstroke speaks. When silence gets too heavy, music cracks it open. When the world feels like it’s running too fast, a sketch slows it down.

Art doesn’t care if you’re trained or talented — it only asks that you feel. A child scribbling on a wall, an old man humming a tune, a stranger doodling in the margins of a notebook… that’s art too. It’s not always meant to be sold, framed, or applauded. Sometimes it’s just meant to exist, like a secret language between the heart and the world.

To me, art is proof that we’re still human in a machine-driven age. That we’re still searching for beauty, for meaning, for each other.

So tell me… what’s the last thing you created that felt alive?