Why I paint

I paint because that is what I have always done from the time a crayon was placed in my tiny hands. I paint because I felt predestined to become an artist as if some higher power knew what they wanted me to do, before I could even conceive of such a concept. I paint because it soothes my soul, and because in the midst of what sometimes seems like a horrendous world, I am constantly awestruck by the incredible beauty that surrounds me. I paint because I cannot help myself, and like a junkie I am drawn to see the beauty and then to try and translate that on a two dimensional surface so that I can somehow preserve the moment. I paint because it is my lifeblood, it is my way of describing my calm moments in the virtual storm of intense feelings I experience. I paint because it keeps me sane, keeps me away from drugs and alcohol, keeps me from committing suicide, I paint to survive, it is my life jacket in a sea that wants to take me down. I paint because it lets me connect with people on a level in which no words are needed, and occasionally touches deep within a stranger and makes my existence worth something. I paint because I am overly concerned with the state of the world and it keeps me sane.