When Necessity Takes a Back Seat: The True Purpose of Art

Musings from an Artist's Notebook: What is Art?

It’s past midnight and the flat is quiet enough that I can hear my own thoughts echoing off the walls. Earlier that day this year's Wildlife Artist of the Year exhibition had gone live and I loved the beautiful cascade of vivid animal portraits. As I scrolled, a question that had been simmering for half an age: What is art?

Art as a Mirror

I could have answered with the usual litany — painting, sculpture, music, dance — but those words felt like trying to describe a rainbow with a single color. After thinking about it for a while I grabbed my phone, and wrote: Art is a mirror.

At first that sounded almost lazy, like a quick shrug. Yet the more I stared at those two words, the clearer the picture got. A mirror doesn’t create anything; it simply reflects whatever stands before it. Likewise, every act of creation—whether a charcoal sketch of a sparrow or a spontaneous joke at a family dinner—reflects a piece of the creator. It captures a mood, a belief, a fleeting feeling, and throws it back into the world for someone else to see.

And yes, you might say, but artwork needs to be created and I agree. Yet the creation of art is more like the making of the mirror in this particular comparison.

"Sapphire Wings" - Oil on Paper

Think about a conversation. We rarely call dialogue “art,” but each exchange is a living tableau of our thoughts, emotions, and biases. When you tell a story about a childhood summer, you’re not just recounting facts; you’re projecting a version of yourself onto the listener’s imagination. That projection is a mirror, and the listener’s reaction—laugh, gasp, nod—completes the artistic loop.

Why does this matter?

Because it shifts art from a static object to a dynamic process. It tells us that everything we do can be art, provided we recognize its reflective nature. A spreadsheet for a startup isn’t just numbers; it’s a map of ambition, risk, and hope. A garden bed isn’t merely soil and seeds; it’s a living portrait of patience and seasonal change. When we stop hunting for “art” only in galleries, we start seeing the world as an ever‑expanding studio.

But there’s a catch: reflection isn’t about survival. We don’t need a painting to eat, nor a symphony to stay warm. Yet once the basics—food, shelter, safety—are taken care of, humanity’s engine shifts gears from survive to thrive. A podcast recently reminded me, that surplus of energy fuels the desire for beauty, for meaning, for that extra sparkle that makes life feel richer than mere existence.

In that sense, art becomes the other half of survival. It’s the breath that follows the heartbeat, the laugh that follows the sigh. Without it, life feels flat; without survival, art never gets a stage. The balance is delicate, but when it clicks, we find ourselves dancing in kitchens, sketching on napkins, or launching side projects that feel more like love affairs than jobs.

I’ve noticed a pattern in my own life: the moments when I’m most creatively alive are precisely those when I feel secure enough to let go of “must‑dos.” When the rent is paid, the fridge is stocked, and the inbox is under control, my brain starts wandering—thinking about the texture of a leaf, the cadence of a street musician, the way light hits a puddle at dusk. Those wanderings become the raw material for art, however you define it.

What are you going to do with this?

So, what does this mean for you? Maybe it’s an invitation to recognize the mirrors around you. Look at that email you drafted last night—was it just a message, or a reflection of your current mood? Notice the playlist you put together for a road trip—did it capture a slice of your journey? When you spot these reflections, you’re already practicing art, even if you don’t label it as such.

Here’s the slightly controversial part: if everything is art, does the word lose its punch? I’d argue no. By widening the definition, we democratize creativity. We stop reserving “artist” for the elite and start seeing the artist in everyone—including you, reading this at 2 a.m., sipping cold coffee, and pondering mirrors. :D

Art, then, is less a noun and more a verb. It’s the act of reflecting, of turning inner experience outward, and inviting others to see themselves in that reflection. It’s the quiet rebellion against a purely utilitarian world, a reminder that we’re built not just to survive, but to laugh, enjoy and be seen.

So, what’s your mirror tonight? A doodle on a receipt? A joke that landed perfectly? A project you finally took the plunge on?

Drop a comment below—let’s keep the reflection going. I’m curious to see what mirrors you’re holding up. 😁

Thank you for reading. Go check out some of my other articles below as well.