Commute Ponderings…(Part 3)

While today was not very somber, I was feeling as such on my bus ride home. A bitterness filled my mouth and I could not find a logical reason why such would have happened. Perhaps it was the soft realization that my writings and works will probably fall to few eyes within my lifetime. It may have also been the unsuccessful class I had previous which left me ashamed. Shame in my lack of effort and the lack of recognition of what little was there.

Upon such contemplations, a thought crept into my mind that I would soon rather forget. Forgetting does not do well for creativity, I fear. In believing this, I wrestled further with my notion.

No matter what one does within their life, someone in the world will always be excluded in some manner.

Someone who is blind can only experience writing through auditory means. This is unfortunate as they will be given a predetermined voice to the piece. If you were a painter, how could you describe your art to such a person?

A profoundly deaf person could not fully experience a piece of music, outside the vibrations of the beat that are felt. As a musician, you will never be able to portray the message or emotion fully to such people.

I could go on with many more examples, but I believe that my point has been made clear thus far.

A question full of hope percolated into my mind. Just as a gas leak will sustain a person in an infinite torpor, so too did this question fill my psyche until every fissure was desecrated with its convoluted nature.

Is there an art form, however simple, that can possibly be universal?

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