Art is what happens when we refuse to be swallowed by the fire. It’s not just beauty—it’s rebellion. It says: this is what’s happening, but this is what I’m choosing to make from it. Art is how we alchemize pain. How we unhook what’s lodged inside us and shape it into something that moves. Not for approval. Not even for understanding. But for release. The truest art is never just the final piece. It’s the path your mind took to get there. What you stripped away. What you centered. What you chose to carry forward—and what you finally let burn. So when the world (or your life) feels like it’s on fire—make something. Sometimes the art is finding the beauty in the collapse. Even if it’s just feeling the warmth from the flames.