I was hanging out with some buddies, engaging in my stress-relieving drawing.
"I like your art," one of them said.
"I don't make art. I'm not an artist," I responded instinctively. I don't make art. I tend towards the logical, the formulaic. I have never considered myself particularly artistic in any capacity; I can never wrangle words to align with what I want to say, I am not proficient with any sort of visual art, and my musical stylings are an exquisite torture form.

That might have been a rash response.

We subsequently descended into a light version of the discussion of what constitutes art, et cetera. That got me thinking, and this is the progeny of those thoughts.

Time will tell whether or not I did, in fact, respond hastily.