You know it's funny - I always have so many things floating through my head all at once it's a wonder that I pay any attention to the real world at all. What does it all mean? What is it here for? Why does it all matter to one insignificantly small individual such as myself? Where do I fit in in the grand scheme of things? In truth time steps forward and every day only serves to become memory the next. Everything becomes but memories - abstract words, portraits and paintings that don't truly exist. That being said how are memories any different than dreams? As each day passes into memory the moments become no more real or fake than dreams themselves. In our lifetime we decide how to assemble the pieces - how we construct the memory. In sleep we also decide how the puzzle goes.
That being said art and music must be the most true things in existence. They are constructed from dreams, from concepts and from memory, and their purpose is to take one person's memory and turn it into another's. This leads me to believe that our sole purpose on this planet is to construct one another's memories and dreams. Nothing that we encounter day to day lasts forever but the afterthought of them - the reactions, the pleasures, the sadnesses and the pains we get from one another and our art carries on into eternity.
On a related note the definition of a drawing is a construct of lines to create form in flat space. We are all drawings in a way, creating concepts for one another to share and behold, and ultimately molded by hands beyond our control. But the purpose remains the same: to be something to someone so one day, the memory remains.