Why Art?

Why Art?

As a Musical Theater major, I get this question pretty often. Sometime with a judging tone, implying I'm going to be a starving artist for the rest of my life. Sometime with skepticism, assuming this is just a "phase" and I'll go back and get my masters in business after my undergrad. But my favorite is with genuine curiosity.

The first time I was ever asked this question with genuine curiosity was my first day of Acting 1 my freshman year of college. Alex Miller asked us to come inside, get on the floor, crawl around and moo like cows. And every one of us did so. Then he proceeded to ask us to do other outrageous things, all for the sake of making us feel foolish and then to "get the f*** over feeling foolish." And it worked. That bubble of "I'm too cool" was instantly popped because the only other option was to just stand in the middle of the room over 15 other students mooing.

When we returned back to "normal" students, he asked us to get our notebooks out and answer this question "Why Art?"

At first I was like, "pshhhh I've get this, I'm awesome, I totally know the answer, I'm going to get it right, back off, I've been performing since I was seven-years-old." But then I actually went to answer the question, and I couldn't put it into words, but I didn't know why.


For my whole life, all I've ever wanted to do was perform. I knew I HAD to perform, but I didn't know why.

It was never for the sake of fame, or money, or because I wasn't good at anything else, or because it was the only way I could get into college. My soul had to be performing. It was more of a feeling than a reason, but I still was unable to answer the question, so then I began to write about how I felt and what art felt like to me.

It became very clear to me that there was no "right" answer.

Now it is nearly two years later, and I still go back to this thought, this moment in time, this journal entry, and I reflect upon and revive my need to be involved in the arts.

So today, 7/13/15 here is my answer: Why Art?

Art is healing. Everyone person on this earth has their on personal experiences. And each one of us that experiences any type of art has some kind of reaction. And for each person, that reaction is as entirely unique and special as a finger print. The reaction that art causes us to produce is some kind of emotion. A beautiful, human emotion that should be acknowledge and respected. Art encourages us to feel our emotions and acknowledge them. It is our job to not judge the emotions that occur, but rather, welcome our emotions with open arms.

In a world where everyone is too focused on technology, or too busy to truly acknowledge one another, or too busy to even listen to our own emotions, art forces you to pause and have an emotion. It's inevitable. So pause, experience your emotion, and reflect on it, even if just for a second.

My other acting teacher read this poem to us many times this last year and it could not be more applicable.

"The Guest House"

by Jelaluddin Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Purely Human

I try to keep my beliefs to myself. Not because I care what people think about my beliefs, but I don’t like arguments. There’s enough of that in politics for everyone around. And I believe there needs to be more love in this world than arguing. But I think everyone needs to hear this every now and then.

We are all human, and we need to start treating each other like we are human. Each possessing a different chemical make up, different life experiences, and even different beliefs.

My way of living isn’t any better or worse than your way of living, and the moment we start accepting this is the moment we start treating everyone else like humans.

Humans that still get hurt when they read something hateful over the internet, whether you can see it on their faces or not.

Humans that have a certain set of beliefs that make them feel secure and happy in their life.

Humans that need to experience just as much love as everyone and everything else in this world.

We are all trying to live in this world and find our own way. We are all trying to find our own happiness and strength in a world with an overwhelming amount of negativity. And we should be trying to lift each other up instead of drag each other down.

If you disagree with someone’s way of living, that is okay. But telling them they’re wrong will only make them shut down on you or blow up on you. We ALL need to start accepting each other for how we were created.

We were all designed to serve a purpose in this world and we may still be trying to figure out what that purpose is. So be patient with one another and spread love, because we can never run out of it.

Once we instill this habit of loving each other, it will no longer be a challenge. And soon we’ll see that each one of us is all practically perfect in every way.

Not So Casual Sex

Let’s talk about hook ups.

They’re definitely not for me.

Now I’m not condemning them. I don’t believe it is right of me to say what anyone can and cannot do to their body. And since I’ve never been involved in a “hook up” I can’t judge those that choose to partake. Also let’s just agree to stop judging everyone, yes?

Anyways, I feel like I would just be really overwhelmed with the idea of going home with some random stranger. They could easily be a killer, or have an STD, or maybe they’re my long lost cousin that I’ve never met before. Absolutely not.

Also, anytime I sense that someone is about to kiss me, whether I want it or not, I just start talking nonstop. Before my boyfriend, finally, mustered up the courage to just kiss me, anytime I felt it coming I brought up a different subject: Wanna watch LOST? What do you believe happens to us after we die? I think it is so important to just love yourself, you know? (All of these events actually occurred).

Then of course when it did happen, I laughed. Not because it was bad, but because I thought it was funny that it took him this long…also partially my fault.

Now let me just paint a picture for you. Jake and I were friends for an entire year, then we texted all summer, and when we finally got back to school it wasn’t until two months in when I let him kiss me. 

That’s a year and two months.

I doubt any horny, drunk guy from a bar would be willing to wait that long to just kiss me.

I just figure I’d leave the hooking up to the more experienced and the young at heart, yeah?

Twenty Going on Forty

From an early age, I’ve come to accept that I am a 40-year-old person (gender not specified) trapped in a 20-year-old-girl’s body.

Who solidified this theory was my high school journalism teacher, Mr. Wenger. I was working on homework in his classroom at lunch (yes, nerd) when someone came up to me and said, “What is your favorite genre of music.” Immediately I rejected the question and panicked.

All I said was, “OH GOD I don’t know…I hate that questions…I love big old time jazz bands?”

Snooping from his desk, as usually, Wenger says, “Good God Heather, what are you? Forty? I don’t even listen to that music.”

Another instance that affirmed I was forty was when Andy Williams died. I found out at school and was so so sad. I ran into my journalism room to tell everyone the terrible news and the only person to respond was my journalism teacher, “Oh my god, was he a student here?”

And you know what? I love it. It’s a daily battle to survive in the twenty first century with my condition. It’s a comical battle. Especially when Sarah is cool as f*** and knows everything about anything. Kiani knows all the ins and outs of the social media and the “laws” of Instagram. And Bridget just easily fits into the realm of todays pop culture.  Even my boyfriend isn’t as far behind as I am and he’s from Texas.

I’m going to be relishing in my old age while Sarah is still gonna be cool as f***. Kiani will probably be 80 years old partying it up in Cabo, and Bridget will probably be finding some organic remedy to hold onto her youth.