We are all artists of our own lives. Every morning we dress up in our costumes, choose our masks and dance to whatever music is playing.
We have the incredible ability to adapt to the melody, whatever it may be, and we change characters when it suits us. We step on, slide, and create our own choreography on this stage called the universe. We write our own scripts and, with each passing day, we have the freedom to dance a new story. With all we can, what else do we want?
We want audience. We want to be seen, perceived and recognized. We want applause. Be the best, the fittest, the fastest. We have acted in our own lives for so long that we come to believe that our dance is not art if it is not danced. What value do we have if we are not followed?
In search of worship we let the stage define our destiny, and the audience control our emotions. We dance to the stars and no longer to ourselves. We dance because the music plays, and we never even questioned if this is the song we want to dance.
We act in our own lives to feel ourselves somebody. But who are we really if we do not even know how to freely live our own art?