Most cultures look pretty from a distance. Like Saturn’s rings. Shiny. Orderly. Impressive.

But look a little closer, and it’s billions of individual fragments, scattered by the cosmos, gathered into rings. Dutifly orbiting in the same direction giving the impression of order and common purpose. Look even closer and you'll see thier true beauty. Their destiny is collide into each other, grind down the big ones, make dust of the little ones. Forever orbiting in the same direction. 

Beliefs, ideas, values, colliding. Grind down to dust. That’s how it works. Even the good stuff.
 
Especially the good stuff.

Still, occasionally, a chunk from here or there drifts close enough to join. To make something new. Is it gravity, luck, or stubbornness? Who knows? For a brief moment, something whole takes shape.

If lucky, I'll probably notice. But only if I'm watching. That's where the art comes from.

Art is less about creation and more about sharing what's already there and helping others see it. Change the perspective and embrace non-sequiturs. Build on mistakes. Sometimes, it works, and sometimes it smashes to dust. ​

Dust may win in the end for us all. But while I’m here, I discover anyway. Art is how we shake our fists at entropy while admitting it has a point. Every so often, something sticks. Something holds. Not forever, but long enough to matter.

That’s enough for me. - Collin Douma