Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.

The escape that changes you

There's something quietly radical about this idea: that art offers escape without requiring you to pack a bag or buy a ticket. When you're stuck in traffic, or sitting in a meeting that feels pointless, or dealing with a relationship that's wearing you down, art—whether you're making it or experiencing it—can transport you somewhere else entirely. You stay physically present, but your mind is elsewhere, somewhere you chose to go.

What's clever here is that Tharp isn't just talking about art as a distraction, the way scrolling might be. She's naming something specific about creative work: it demands your full attention in a way that actually breaks your connection to whatever was bothering you. When you're truly absorbed in making something, or lost in a song or story, the present moment shifts. Your desk is still there, your problems are still waiting—but you've genuinely left for a while.

The non-obvious part is what happens when you return. That's different from actual escape, where you come back to the same problem feeling resentful. Art seems to change something in us before we even notice. It rewires how we see what we're returning to, which might be the closest thing to real escape available.