A reflection on the parallels between love and art.
Some of us live life in a quiet anticipation, tucking away small joys and private dreams, hoping for the day when sharing them will make them whole. There are places you dream of going, experiences you hold close because you know how much more meaningful they’d feel when shared. As if their true beauty only comes alive in the company of someone else.
As a romantic your entire life is a preparation of becoming. So naturally, when someone comes along who feels like they could be it, all that affection we’ve been holding onto just rushes out. Intentional, unmistakable, and soft. Not because we know they’re the one, but because for so long we’ve been preparing to love well.
Its a flight with half a set of wings. And it feels beautiful. Pure. Like something true is finally being lived. You soar into connection, unsteady, trusting that if you tip into emptiness, you’ve at least tasted air.
And that’s the catch:
The very intensity that makes you a lover is also what leaves you exposed. Not everyone is ready for that, and not every connection is meant to last. So what happens when it doesn’t work out?
If you don’t know how to return to your center, it can break something deeper than just the bond- it can fracture the part of you that believed.
And strangely, I believe that’s the same relationship an artist has with their art.
A good artist must be willing, eager even- to be consumed, to let the art swallow them whole, pouring themselves into creation without holding back.
But if they don’t know how to step back, how to detach, they risk losing themselves.
That’s the paradox I’ve had to learn, both in love and in art.
To be fully present, fully open,
and yet grounded enough to survive the loss of what I create.
Because not every person we love, or piece we make, will stay with us.
But if we remember how to come back to ourselves,
we won’t stop creating.
We won’t stop loving.
We learn how to love with both hands, one holding on,
the other learning to let go.
It is this balance- between holding on and letting go, that teaches us resilience. To create without fear, to love without reservation, knowing that even in loss, we are never truly empty.
