"Why" I create.....

Why I Create: The Power of Art in My Second Act

At this stage in my life—over 50, queer, and pursuing art as a second career—I've often been asked why I create, especially when sales are sparse and recognition feels like a distant echo. The question stings sometimes, but it also grounds me. My answer has evolved over the years, but today it’s clear: I create because I am human, because I am alive, and because art is my way of staying in conversation with the world.

I didn’t come to art through the traditional path. My first career was something entirely different—necessary, stable, respectable. But like many of us in midlife, I felt something deeper calling. A quiet urgency to live more honestly, more creatively. To express the parts of me that never fit into neat boxes. Art became my language, my outlet, my mirror.

Yes, I'm a late bloomer. And no, I don't have a long list of galleries or collectors waiting at my door. But I show up to the studio anyway. I work with paint, paper, ink—anything I can get my hands on. I fall in love again and again with the materials. Their textures, their resistance, their willingness to surprise me. Art supplies aren’t just tools to me; they’re partners in my process, intimate companions on this journey of rediscovery.

What I create may not always be “marketable,” but it is always meaningful. Every piece carries the fingerprints of who I am: queer, resilient, organic. I pour into my work the truths that don’t always have a place in daily conversation—the ache of invisibility, the joy of discovery, the tension of transformation. These truths matter. I matter.

Creating makes me free. Free to explore. Free to risk. Free to make mistakes and start again. That freedom is sacred, and I don't take it for granted. I believe that older artists, especially those of us who are queer, bring something vital to the cultural landscape: perspective, complexity, defiance, history, and hope.

So why do I create?

Because the act of making connects me to who I really am.
Because my voice deserves space, even if it’s not amplified by fame.
Because joy, beauty, and expression are worthy pursuits—no matter your age, identity, or commercial success.

I am here. I am making. And that is enough.