It's an interesting phenomenon, feeling art grow inside me. Cliche ofcourse, but not untrue. It must not make any sense to the non-artist. But I can feel art weave inside me and pull at emotions and knit into who I am. I love it so much, and at the same token wish for it to be gone. Before I fell in love with art I could relax, and be mundane. There is no room for that in art, because art is life. Art soaks up everything around it and you have to create.
Its a fascinating and frustrating thing, I love it and wouldn't leave its side for a second.