“I’ve read your work. That’s what you do. You shine a light on the truths of the world, no matter how they look.” I smiled into my clasped fingers. To know that he had read my work filled me with pride. “I want to make a difference,” I admitted, but I didn’t add that I felt like I was failing. “When I make art, all I’m trying to do is unearth some version of truth. What’s more beautiful than truth, no matter in what form? It’s that human connection.”
