When I first asked myself the question above, I had to pause for a moment to really think about my answer.

If I was the last person on the planet would I really want to sit around painting, making music, and taking photos?

Fuck no.

It would probably be a pretty hard time, you know being the last person alive on the planet and all.

I would probably still write though.

But why?

Why would writing be the final form of expression left in my hypothetical end-of-the-world?

Well, to me, writing helps me carve out my understanding of myself and the world.

It’s the ear that listens when no one else will.

It’s how I process what’s happening not only around me, but inside me.

So, if I really was the last person on the planet, and somehow had a pen and a piece of paper, I would still write.

I’d write about what I saw, how I felt, and I’d try to understand why I was the last person.

The pen and paper would be the mirror that looked back at me and said,

“You still exist.”

So to answer the question, yeah, I would still make my art, even if no one saw it, because I’m a writer, and this is how I think.

Thankfully though, I’m not the last person alive, so I’ll play however I want.