I’ve always loved to paint. I love everything about it. The smell when it rushes my nose. The sound as it cascades down my canvas. The feel as it layers my knuckles, invades my nails, stains my skin. It steals my heart. Every time. Every new painting, every new layer, enveloping every tear and crack, every dark corner. It soothes and cools with each new color, mixed with hope and indignation, covering all the marks, each scar and crooked line. What is left is what you see. So when you ask… what is it?….. lean in…. and feel it.