To me, painting and art in general is another world for me to explore, to touch and make my own. I love just sitting around, the radio blasting in the background (for some reason when I draw, only tropical-y music is good. Or some classic rock), I feel nothing except my fingers warming up under the pressure against the paper. I don't feel worried. My brain's not going at a hundred miles an hour. All I care about is what I'm drawing or painting. I love the rich smell of the oil paints on my pallet and the presise line an ebony pencil can make. If I didn't have any love or skill to write, I think I would marry a paintbrush. Or even a pencil. I think that when you love something that much, that you'd be willing to do whatever it is for four hours straight, it has to be a good thing.