I had a conversation this week with a young friend that eventually brought me to ask him: how do you define art? The kid had a pretty low bar to clear, since I would have answered with no more than a stumbling serious of “ummms” if my teenage self had been asked that question, but he flew over it and did a couple of back flips for show in the process.

“It’s what you put out there… your version of reality in words that only you would phrase that way… your perspective, your perception of the world – your world.” Art is everywhere and bedevils the creator, often vulnerable, who may need to just create it to document struggles or triumphs, as vanity, a grand act of sharing and contributing to humanity, or to make a living by adding to powder room decor.

I shouldn’t listen to musical artists to try and categorize the purpose for their art (and I usually don’t) but the proof (for me) usually lies in my judgement that the aesthetic gives a quick peak at the artist’s soul. You have to be discerning to pick out what’s real, and you may never get confirmation that you were right.