I would argue that art matters for therapeutic reasons. It is a medium uniquely well suited to helping us with some of the troubles of inner life: our desire for material things, our fear of the unknown, our longing for love, our need for hope.
Art is more than what you see. It’s visceral.
Nowhere exists somewhere. It may be invisible like air or essential like water, but it’s there to be occupied.
Nowhere is a place you go when life has sucked all options out you. Nowhere is that end of the road feeling, a mouse-trap of guilt and self-pity.
But nowhere is at least a place to start, a clean slate with boundless ways of action. Pursuing a direction generates confidence and kills the stigma of nowhere.
Nowhere is somewhere, depressing as it may be. But it’s just not a place you want to live in too long. Any step is a step forward out of the invisible. Hope and gut are the only thing you got.