Art is its freight

This bus travels around the country bringing Art to communities. This morning it was parked in the playground of my school. What's inside? My mind imagined a massive TARDIS-like interior gallery space where installations and sculptures and photographs and paintings were. This was the vehicle's freight, what lay within, as it drove through the morning rush, the traffic jams, the country roads.
There's a great Dr Who episode written by Neil Gaiman where the TARDIS takes the form of a human and when it enters the body it remarks, in awe,
"Are all people like this?"
"Like what?"
"So much bigger on the inside."
It's such a wonderful line about we humans and the immense inner space we have. Our bodies the vehicles that carry all this experience and emotion and thoughts and insight around, so expansive: a universe in itself.
Art is what we do to try and connect our inner space with those of others. We need connection, we need affirmation sometimes. I fret at times that in attempting to make good Art out of experience I actually put up barriers to the full richness of lived experience.
It's a fine balance to try and be fully present in the moment and not get in the way of it by composing thoughts to recreate it. I sometimes worry that I'm trying to validate my experience by making it into a nice phrase or piece of writing and in doing so I'm actually feeding my ego rather than my spirit. A fellow blipper commented on a blip I did a long time ago, saying that "perhaps take a step back to savour it?" and it rankled, in a way that true things about yourself can. Am I building myself a cage of fine words that actually detracts from lived experience?
There is no easy answer I guess, just this exchange between the outer and inner worlds we all negotiate. That I see this bus and make these connections is part of what makes me "me". That will do.