Art, Immortality, and Leaving Something Behind

I don't subscribe to a religion. I was brought up a Christian, but I quit. I'm thankful to the Christians, particularly the Catholics, who, through what seems to me to have been a concerted effort to not allow followers to think for themselves, commissioned a body of visual art and music that is life-enriching, however indoctrinating and enslaving it might be.

Art is important. Art is human. Art is an expression of the joys, the sorrows, and the mindfulness of life. Art enriches, sustains, and survives us. Art is understood not in one's consciousness but in one's heart. The tools - the skills needed to produce art can be taught, but the essence of art cannot.

The immortal: Bach, da Vinci, Beethoven, Michelangelo. They live forever because they continue to speak to us through their art. Lesser-known artists do the same, but some voices are louder than others. Which artists of today will speak to future generations?

I'm forty-nine. Compared to artists of previous generations, I've created precious  little of merit to leave behind. Now I fear that being in a hurry to catch up, my work will be careless and frivolous. I write. I write and write and write. Years ago I wrote music, but I have found words as satisfying to put together as pitch and rhythm and more comfortable. What will I leave behind? Will it hold any meaning for anyone but me? What of my immortality? Is that vain? Yes, I suppose it is, but leaving the world a better place, I think, means leaving art behind that somehow enlightens another life. I don't think that's vanity.

Perhaps Beethoven and da Vinci can rest. In one lifetime they created art so profound they need not come back to improve on their work. I believe I have many lifetimes ahead of me. Time is running short and the business of raising a family (or two) and making a living are distractions.