Deep down inside, everyone has a hidden artistic talent or a proclivity for the esoteric. Some of us play musical instruments, others act, DJ, cook, decorate, design, master the spoken word, dance, tell wonderful stories, and/or make people laugh.

 While exercising my artistic chops I’ve realized that it feels like I am functioning at my highest level of productivity and bliss. When creating something new that can, hopefully, inspire some kind of emotional rejoinder for the good of those around us, it seems the heart, mind, and soul are firing on all cylinders.

 Art happens.

 Mentors have told me that eminent art occurs, when the focus of the effort is centered on the quality of the work itself rather than a commercial or narcissistic outcome. A true artist needs to devoid himself of what others think and concentrate on what he has to say through his medium. That being said, most artists seem to be egomaniacs.

 Carlos Santana once told me that when he plays his guitar he doesn’t feel his fingers playing the notes. All he feels is the music transferring from his soul and going out through the amps. Consistent with that theme, my suspicion is that he has direct deposit so the fat checks go right to the bank as well.

 No doubt the majority of artists, not just the starving ones, have day jobs. Those fortunate enough to create art for a living are considered foolish, unless they are rich. Then they are considered eccentric. The world wide web has opened a Pandora’s box of new artistic expression to be enjoyed in the comfort of your own home. Consumer driven media, consumer originated art, is generated though an egalitarian electronic platform. This is a place where U-Tube can make you a rock star or a laughing stock over night to tens of millions.

 I truly admire those who can play music and write songs. All art aspires to the condition of music. Many of those troubadours will never monetize their sweat labor, make it big, be on TV, or release a CD, but they are authentic and accomplished artists none-the-less. Often times these talented souls have a better ability than the people who find themselves flash-in-the-pan famous.

 Most expensive pro-quality music, photography, DJ set ups, and painting paraphernalia are sold to non-professionals. Pros often get endorsement deal hook-ups.

 Engaging in art creates an outward expression of what is really going on in the soul. This works well when a hair designer comes up with a new color and cut, giving someone a new and hipper identity. It can work to the detriment when you experience some junk sculpture that reflects an urban blight or the ravages of a future-shock tasered society.

 We really have to give it up to the musicians who have full-time day jobs yet take their bands up and down the state playing no-money gigs in dives. They do it just for the joy of entertaining people, laying it all out there in the hope that the music will get them somewhere. Someday they may find that the joy of creating the music was the greatest reward in itself. Some may be embittered and rebuke the effort as a pitiful waste of time. Those are the cats who were in it for the wrong reasons.

 As a writer, I am glad that I don’t have to take my show on the road playing in dives across the country to display my chops. The downside is that the feedback, good or bad, is few and far between. If we had a band and took the show on the road, I would know immediately if people laughed or if I completely bombed. Lately, though, because of email and social media, the feedback comes to me quicker than a beer bottle tossed at the stage.

 My wife and I have found in our midlife that the expression of the artistic muse vastly improves the quality of life and keeps us vital, inspired, and in the mix. She takes flute, piano and occasional voice lessons. I have taken up the electric bass, some blues guitar, and have been called upon to paint the house. All talents being equal, I should be a painting soloist on the roller.

 We have found that if you want to improve the quality of life, make an effort to let your creative juices flow. Aspiring scribes have given me their work to critique and it is always encouraging when I find the everyday, non-ego-driven folks who have real hidden talent.

 My dad was a weekend musician. Being a guitar player defined his soul. He was at his happiest when playing for a house party or rehearsing every afternoon for a pizza parlor gig scheduled two weeks off. Music helped him transcend the mundane 9-to-5 life of a warehouseman. It transported him into a world were he was a special “somebody” with skill. His gravestone has a guitar etched on it. Maybe mine will have a PC.

 “The opposite of bravery is not cowardice, but conformity.”

-Robert Anthony

Al Carlos Hernandez writes for www.LatinoLA.com