My fine arts teacher showed us aerial pictures of memorials/art that ancient people would do. These things were spread out over crazy distances. With no planes during that time, no way for them to see it from a higher perspective, these people created art. It took time and patience and thought and even math. (The horror!)
I looked at those images and my only thought was, “Why?”
Why would anyone spend so much time on something they couldn’t enjoy? They couldn’t see it! All they get from the ground is essentially nonsense. And without thinking, I said that aloud. He gave me the same quizzical look and said, “It wasn’t for them.”
I have since come to realize that there is something eternal about art. Time will wipe away everything we create, but we do it anyway. It isn’t for us, it’s for something bigger than us.
We’re still doing it, too. Maybe it’s built into humanity.