The Creator

Why do I create? The simple answer involves the complex mystery of creation~ the more knowable answer is, I am lonely...needing something, someone outside of myself to bring back in, to hold close for to cherish and love. I would not write a word, dabble a blotch, were my hunger entirely satisfied by the works of others; were all my questions answered and my dreams already portrayed into infinity – I create because I have a sense of loss, of being incomplete – I create because I am dissatisfied with the status quo. I create not to feel a sheep-driven-reactionary, and more a green in God's garden of unlimited potential, salivating for moments of sensed eternal blossoming... The novice writes a poem, while the poet writes poetry. The painter only paints, while the artist creates an image, that lives immortal in the realms of observation. And I create for all these reasons – and, most of all~ those shared joys I have not found outside the process.