Finding Our Place

by Toni Cogdell

Tue, Jun 30, 2009

What is it that compels me to spend every spare waking hour here. Poised in front of a canvas, or curled around a piece of paper, painting and making marks as if my life, my entire existence depended on it. (I actually believe it does.) What is it that follows me as I drift into sleep, whispering stories and composing scenes in my mind that stay with me as I wake, then taking me by the hand, sometimes with force, and leading me back to the studio to learn how to speak them out loud?

Full Story