I cannot express the verve flow inside me when something new is created from people I like. I feel that I have communed in some untouchable way, while simultaneously sparks go snap-snap-snap in my veins.
I often wonder what makes anyone else want to paint. I know my reasons—one underlying theme always present. I eat, drink, sleep, think, and persist with a strong, pressing desire to create something new. In a day this feeling can manifest itself as anything really—snow castle, witty remark, a gulping sound, and/or of course, a painting. Mostly a painting.
Movement and color and history. Ah, the creative life!