You know?

Mostly, we like to read about things that we can identify with to some extent. I guess that's true with just about everything. I suppose a sense of appreciation (by this I mean empathy) is justified to oneself. So say hypothetically (For now. I may delve into this later)if one wrote about the missing tile in their white washroom, would you as a reader, seek to identify the missing tile in your washroom, thereby identifying with the piece of writing in what the loss signifies for you? Or would you appreciate the skillfulness of artistry in depicting the immeasurable loss of the missing tile for the writer, knowing that you have a fully functional and flourishing washroom thereby removing yourself from such a situation?

As you've probably guessed by now, the missing tile and the washrooms are likely allusions to something else. These may also be something you don't particularly care for or have experienced.

What if there were no empathy involved in the appreciation, would an appreciation therefore be valid?
What really denotes the 'soul' of a writing piece?

Takers anyone?