[ CW ] A speech to a fundraiser for the arts beginning with the Oscar Wilde quote : `` All art is quite useless . ''

“ All art is useless ”... from Baby Micheal ’ s finger paintings to Michelangelo ’ s David. We collect art and desire to possess it, as if, by the mere holding of it, we possess its very nature. We hang art in places of honor to prove to acquaintances that we too understand the sublime, that which is, by definition, beyond understanding. All of this makes clear the deep error of our thinking. 
 
 We surround ourselves with the mere totems... remembrances... pebbles that lead us down paths. Because the art is in the making. It is in the genius of creativity that drives man to put pigment on paper, to pull model out of marble, and to wrestle words into sentences. Thusly, the true value of art is in the soul of its maker. That soul is irrepressible, irreplaceable, and can not be captured. 
 
 But momentos have their place. Not because the act of possession or the drive to show art has meaning, but because art reminds us of our better natures. Art is a daily admonition that those who went before us have grasped at meaning, taken hold of the vast opportunity to think cogently or wildly, maybe recklessly, about their condition. Art drives us to stand on their shoulders and do the same, to strangle from our mortal lives the last bits of hope and drive.
