I think often “what’s the use of writing?” Writing is not commonly considered among the arts for display. Writers have no chiseled stone, no colored brush strokes, no light-tinted emulsions or choreography to hold up for the world–or themselves–to see what they’ve created.
Then I came across Mr. Thoreau’s point of view, and may need to rethink my assumptions:
A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips; — not be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself. – H D Thoreau