Why do I create? Why does a child love to run naked? Is there any good reason, or profound explanation? Do we demand that a toddler give us a reason for their laughter as they prance about, unencumbered by clothing?
Must I justify why my soul loves to run, clothed only in ink and pen- exposed for all to see, real in it’s raw glory? This is where I am free. Like the naked child, I am as I was created to be and there is no greater explanation than that.