Insignificant Pens and Pencils?

The other day I was asked if I draw because I am somewhat talented? I don't believe that inquiry could be farther from the truth.

I draw because of the feeling that fills me when
a pure, white sheet of paper is before me. That mere sheet can represent
everything. It can become anything. I could create a mess or beauty. It
could be
fantasy or reality.

I draw because the waterfall of colors splashing
across a seemingly dull page of nothing can magically bring life. It
becomes an explosion of shades mingling together creating something truly
magnificent before my eyes.

I draw because the ugly and the beautiful become
one of the same. Both are on different ends, yet are made equal, made worthy
by
the same action.

Perfect, pristine pictures or detestable
drawings gone wrong, this is why.