substitute for perfection?

I never wondered what it is I like about art, what always seems to draw me in beyond the positive feeling I conclude it gives me. 

Why do people paint; why do we compose, play or listen to music; why do we write stories? It all comes down to the root of expression, what is conveyed through any form of art. Some paint to show a sublime moment in time (ie. Impressionism) or to capture a vague sense of perfected light, a body, a scene. Some paint to depict pain, misery, war and despair (think Picasso) as though they could do nothing but become witnesses of their times. Others write the most enchanting stories, the kind that will seem to set your mind free into the endless realm of imagination. Stories will be romance, science-fiction, even a thriller or a classic...But what is the aim? Beyond the prison of reality and a sense of helplessness -human limitation-stories offer an escape for the mind in the hope of finding a sense of peace or freedom, fulfillment. Some write to transcend the reality of having only one life and with the power of their imagination they can live so many and share them with others. All forms of art, it seems, derive primarily from a desire or need to escape what cannot physically be escaped, a desire or need to create a window that will reflect either the illusion of a voice or perfection. A voice, whose owner-the artist- is not able to use any other way for he finds himself prisoner of his individual condition; a perfection, for who has never dreamt of catching but a glimpse of what makes perfection or sublimity? In a perfect world made of perfect minds the need for art would be cancelled for once such a perfected world is achieved the perfection will be found within, therefore making all forms of art obsolete. Escapes and external substitutes would no longer be required.

Until then, though, there is art...