Life as Art: A Traveler’s Reflection

Both Carla and I love art. Wherever we travel, one of the first things we look for is the local art scene. We’re drawn to places where creativity is alive and visible, and where artists are part of the fabric of daily life. Art tells the story of a place in ways no guidebook or history book ever could. It carries emotion, memory, struggle, and beauty all at once. It shows you not just what happened, but how it felt.

I’ve always felt a strong affinity with artists. Even with my own writing and photography, which by most traditional definitions would place me in that realm, it’s really the way artists see and interpret the world that has always drawn me in. There’s a way of noticing, of paying attention, that feels familiar and deeply human.

Travel has deepened that appreciation in ways I didn’t expect. Again and again, it’s through art that we come to understand history, culture, and the lives of those who came before us. So much of what we know and feel about the past has been carried forward through visual storytelling, music, words, and creative expression. Over time, this has given me a deep respect for artists of every kind - painters, writers, sculptors, musicians. The medium itself isn’t the point. At its core, creating art is about taking what lives inside us and finding a way to bring it into the world in a form others can see, feel, and recognize.

We often think of art as something separate from ourselves. A painting on a wall. A photograph in a gallery. A song played on a stage. We admire it from a distance and decide whether we like it or not. But what if that definition is too small? What if the most important work of art we will ever create is not something we hang, frame, collect, or perform, but something we live?

What I’m trying to say is this: each of us is an artist, whether we think of ourselves that way or not. And our greatest masterpiece is not a thing we make or display. It is ourselves. It’s found in who we are, how we treat others, how we respond to difficulty, and how we express love, curiosity, compassion, and courage. The way we move through the world becomes our most meaningful creative act. Every choice we make, every word we speak, every kindness we offer adds to that work in progress. Whether we’re aware of it or not, we are always sharing the essence of who we are with the world.

That is exactly what traditional artists do. A painter places their inner world onto canvas. A musician translates feeling into sound. A dancer turns emotion into movement. In the same way, we translate our inner lives into lived experience. The difference is that we don’t usually call it art. We call it living. But when we begin to think of our lives this way, our perspective shifts. Things that once felt ordinary begin to carry more meaning. We start to notice beauty where we once saw only habit or struggle.

One of the gifts of art is that we don’t judge it the way we judge ourselves. We don’t tell a painting it should be something else. We don’t criticize a piece of music for not being perfect. We simply experience it and notice what it stirs in us. Imagine if we could look at our own lives that way. Approaching our lives with curiosity instead of criticism, and with appreciation rather than constant self-correction, can help us see that beauty already exists, even in the unfinished parts. And in seeing that beauty, we begin to live it more fully.

Travel has a special way of making this truth visible. When we travel, we’re gently pushed out of familiar roles and routines. We show up in new places without knowing how we’ll be received or even quite who we’ll be in that place. Each day becomes an invitation to place our personal artwork on display, not in a performative way, but in a deeply human one. How do I greet this stranger? How do I respond when I don’t understand the language? How do I remain open, kind, and curious in the unfamiliar? Travel stretches us and challenges us, and in doing so, helps shape who we are becoming.

In that sense, travel becomes a studio. A place of practice. We’re constantly working on ourselves - adjusting, softening, learning, and growing. Like an artist who keeps returning to a canvas, or a musician who keeps practicing, we continue to adjust how we move through the world. Over time, often without noticing, our lives take on more depth.

We are art as we are now, not someday in the future and not after we’ve figured everything out. We’re always in motion, always learning and changing. Our lives don’t become meaningful because they’re perfect. They’re meaningful because we show up for them. When we see ourselves this way, life stops feeling like something we have to get right and starts feeling more like something we’re shaping as we go. Travel doesn’t turn us into something new. It reminds us of what we already are.

Wherever we go, we carry our unfinished work with us. Every place leaves a mark. Every encounter adds a layer. Every step forward becomes part of the ongoing creation.

Travel doesn’t change who we are at our core. It simply gives us more room to be ourselves. More chances to practice kindness. More opportunities to see beauty, both around us and within us. We are not just visitors passing through landscapes and cities. We are participants. We are witnesses. We are creators.

We carry our lives with us wherever we go. They are never finished and always changing. Beneath all of it is a simple idea that’s easy to forget: we are our own masterpiece. Even for those of us who are artists in the traditional sense - painters, dancers, musicians, writers - the most creative work we will ever do isn’t something we make. It’s the life we live. It shows up in how we move through the world, how we treat others, and how we keep moving forward, even when things feel uncertain or unclear.

This work is never finished. It takes shape over time through experience, through mistakes, through moments of clarity and moments of doubt. It is shaped by the places we go and the people we meet, but even more by the attention and care we bring to ordinary moments. When we begin to see our lives this way, the need to be perfect begins to ease. What matters more is being present and paying attention.

Seen this way, living itself becomes a creative act. It’s not something to figure out or get right, but something to stay present with. When we pay attention, we may realize that we’re already doing what artists have always done. We’re taking what lives inside us and bringing it into the world through the way we live. Our life is our art.