Kids who painted well in school were undoubtedly recognized as artists. Kids who wrote well? I mean, there were those poetry contests and the like. Maybe I just wasn’t that good of a writer back in middle school or high school. Maybe I needed to be broken open from the sudden passing of my father before I could really feel the flowing of words spilling from my heart.
Or, maybe, growing up I spent so much time and energy on writing what my teachers wanted me to, that as my education went on, I simply stopped writing for myself.
Maybe it’s a mixture of both.
In any case, I can’t imagine not having this form of self-expression.