Loneliness: the absence of love.
Loneliness is of the mind and spirit. I can be with others and yet feel very much alone.
When I sense an absence of love, not love just for me, but in sharing those things I feel passionate about, when I disregard beauty and nature, or when I fail to act or have the opportunity to care for others, my loneliness intensifies. When I turn attention away from my self, my loneliness subsides.
I could be homeless in the blink of an eye. You, in a step on the street.
A run of bad luck, the loss of love, being in the wrong place, weakness, illness, sadness, age. Any one of these accidents of fortune can be the cause of my fall from comfort and security.
All I hold dear hangs from the thread of my denial that being without is possible.
Without my home, my friends, my things, my dignity. When I am with I easily forget being, without.
You may think my craft is always purposeful, considered, when it is often full with happy accident.
Take a scene in a movie. The actor's face, their gesture, their very being brings a unique force that supplements the broader text. No matter what is written, what is said, how it is directed, shot, what sound and music is heard, what light falls, the actor's inherent nature is fundamental to the scene.
The same is true of art, music, and words. The originator makes with innate, accidental qualities.