Make Art
We are all artists, in one sense or another. Our society, unfortunately, does little to cultivate this innate creativity beyond the occasional obligatory art class in school. I dabble in creative pursuits myself, though I don’t identify as particularly talented or skilled in making art. Yet I still create, because the act itself brings its own rewards.
When examining the animal kingdom, artistic expression emerges as one of the few characteristics that differentiate humans from other species. This isn’t to suggest other animals don’t create art–they absolutely do–but rather that humans have developed a more complex relationship with artistic expression. We can analyze, critique, and deliberately evolve our art in ways other species cannot, though evidence suggests many animals still appreciate and create their own forms of art.
Consider the bowerbird, who creates elaborate, decorated structures purely to attract mates. These constructions serve no practical purpose beyond aesthetic appeal–they’re not nests or shelters, just artistic displays. Or examine how certain species have evolved spectacular visual displays through bright colors and intricate patterns. These evolutionary art pieces serve dual purposes: attracting mates and deterring predators. Sexual dimorphism represents nature’s own artistic evolution spanning millions of years, demonstrating how art functions as an essential survival mechanism.
What’s particularly fascinating about animal art–bird songs, elaborate dances, visual displays–is how they often resonate with humans despite not being created for our appreciation. We find beauty in a nightingale’s melody, though it sings not for us. We marvel at a peacock’s magnificent tail, though it displays not for our benefit. We admire the geometric precision of a spider’s web, though it weaves without human audience in mind. This cross-species appreciation suggests an underlying, perhaps universal, connection between living beings and artistic expression that transcends mere survival utility.
Music stands as perhaps humanity’s most universally consumed art form, though we don’t always categorize it alongside paintings or sculptures in our conception of “art.” Music communicates emotions, perspectives, narratives, and concepts with remarkable efficiency. It bridges generational and cultural divides, creating communal experiences in ways few other mediums can achieve. Music has accompanied human civilization since our earliest days and will likely remain with us throughout our existence as a species.
Despite art’s fundamental importance to human experience, few people receive guidance in appreciating art, and even fewer learn how to create it beyond rudimentary instruction in childhood. This represents a significant cultural oversight, as artistic creation offers profound benefits: self-expression, self-knowledge, interpersonal connection, and conceptual exploration.
Learning to appreciate art requires no specialized training–simply identifying what resonates with you personally, what doesn’t, and allowing yourself time to engage with what you enjoy. Quality in art is ultimately subjective; it’s whatever speaks to you, regardless of critics or self-proclaimed experts. Though some may attempt to gatekeep artistic appreciation behind walls of academic jargon or historical context, art fundamentally belongs to everyone.
We all possess creative capacity, though many haven’t yet discovered their preferred medium or granted themselves permission to explore artistic interests. Some find their expression through cooking, gardening, or arranging their living spaces. Others through writing, singing, dancing, or digital creation. The medium matters less than the act of creation itself.
So today, make something–anything. Write a poem. Sketch a tree. Compose a melody. Arrange flowers in a vase. The quality doesn’t matter; the act of creation does. Your art might never hang in galleries or sell for millions, but that was never the point. Make art because it connects you to that ancient, fundamental aspect of being human that we share with the dancing birds and singing whales–the drive to create something that wasn’t there before.