There is certainly a kernel or two of truth in this statement. Writing about art is a little bit counter-intuitive. Art and music might share the same bed, bit it’s a bed that I believe art and words do not share. Why does one write novels, make films or paintings? Who knows, perhaps because they can’t do anything else, perhaps because they don’t want to do anything else.
I don’t think anyone has an overwhelming drive to do something that they don’t know deep down that they are capable of and therefore driven toward. I know when I’m spending every day of my life creating art or working on a film that I believe in, that it’s absolutely the thing I should be doing, and how immensely pleasurable the work can be – it can also be immensely difficult and frustrating – just part of the process.
My hope as an artist is that my work, in whatever arena, will add something worthwhile, interesting and perhaps now and then humorous to the world.