Sunday Real Talk | Art Should Tell a Relatable Story

I have always been drawn to creativity and art in all its forms. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more open to exploring different genres and experiencing creativity in ways I may not have appreciated before.

Still, I believe art is personal—and it needs a hook.

Something has to pull the observer in. It may be a feeling, a memory, a question, or even a sense of discomfort. But there must be something that connects the creation to the person experiencing it.

I believe art should be relatable.

That doesn’t mean everyone must understand it in the same way. It doesn’t mean art has to be simple, pretty, or comfortable. But somewhere beneath the technique, there should be a heartbeat—something that speaks to our senses, our emotions, or a need within us.

With all the bells and whistles available to creatives in 2026, I sometimes wonder whether certain forms of art have lost sight of that connection.

At times, it feels as though the focus is more on complicated techniques, shock value, or how far someone can twist an idea than on whether the finished work actually touches people. Complexity may be interesting, but being difficult to understand does not automatically make something meaningful.

Creatives have always pushed boundaries through visuals, sounds, words, tastes, scents, and textures. Some people naturally gravitate toward what feels unfamiliar and challenging. Others find comfort in rhythm, beauty, and feelings that mirror what they need at that particular moment.

Think about how creativity already moves through our everyday lives.

Music is a mood enhancer. We choose a certain artist or genre based on how we feel—or how we want to feel.

When we get dressed, we may follow our inner mood. Other times, we dress to project the mood we want to manifest. Our clothing becomes part of the story we are telling before we ever say a word.

We don’t always crave the same foods and drinks. Our bodies, minds, and taste buds can be downright moody about what they want to experience.

A beautiful scent can attract a stranger, while an unpleasant odor may repel someone who already loves us. The scent of creativity—or the lack of it—can pull us closer or push us away.

Many of us don’t even realize how much texture affects us. The feel of our clothing, blankets, furniture, food, and all the surfaces we touch can shift our comfort and our entire mood.

Creativity is not limited to a canvas, stage, page, or recording studio. We experience it through every part of ourselves.

That brings me to a question for creatives:

What is your desired result?

What do you want people to feel when they experience your creativity?

Do you want them to feel seen? Comforted? Challenged? Curious? Energized?

Do you want them to remember something they had forgotten—or recognize something within themselves?

Some people create according to what is trending at the moment. Others create from what naturally lives inside their creative spirit. Then there are those who deliberately push boundaries and challenge every familiar idea about what art is supposed to be.

There was a time when we did not have access to this many creatives. The artists we knew may have worked in different styles and genres, but many had a signature. You could hear a few notes, see a certain brushstroke, read a few sentences, or experience a particular atmosphere and know who created it.

Technology has now made it possible for more people to create, experiment, and immediately place their work before a hopeful audience. That is a beautiful opportunity—but it also makes me wonder:

How many true creatives are remaining faithful to themselves?

And how many are trying to become the next talent that mainstream media tells us is worthy of attention?

There is room for experimentation. There is room for complexity. There is even room for art that leaves us confused. But technique alone cannot replace connection.

A piece of art can use perspective, composition, color, contrast, facial expressions, movement, or the smallest visual clue to tell a story. It doesn’t have to explain everything. Sometimes an open door, a dropped object, a shadow, or a look on someone’s face is enough to make us wonder what happened before that moment—and what might happen next.

The best storytelling does not always give us every answer. It gives us a reason to care.

I would say that art should tell a relatable story—something people can connect with and crave experiencing again.

That’s just my thought.

What’s yours?

Real Talk with Lady Flava 🌻