Why bother to look at or listen to a work of art? Life would be a lot simpler, perhaps, if we didnít waste our time with such forays into realms of the alternate, or possible, or for that matter, impossible.
From my standpoint there is an attendant question: Why bother to make art? Even if there were some interest or audience out there (a surmise already compromised by the first question), there is already a lot of old art in the world, waiting to be re-experienced. Making more art looks, on the face of it, to be a waste of time.
The answer to both questions is that the making and experiencing of art is, seemingly, built into the human genome. There is strong evidence that mankind began making decoration, rhythmic sounds, and non-utilitarian physical objects since the emergence of Homo sapiens as a species. It is built in, as much a part of Man-as-Social-Being as mating or child bearing. Can we do without it? Of course Ė but in doing so, we would reduce the breadth of our lives, the richness of our being here, now, in the moment, with others. Creating and experiencing art is yet another form of humankindís ingenuity and social audaciousness; like language, it is indispensable.
When I am signing a finished piece, I feel that I have arrived at a point where no one else has been, made something that no one else could have made. It is a transitory excitement, a euphoria which ends as soon as I start the next piece, but it is an extraordinary sensation, and my drug of choice.