Why paint?

I have painted and drawn since I was able to hold a pencil, and nothing has ever seemed to me as rife with promise and possibility as the blank canvas.  Art has been the constant in my life, even as I changed jobs and cities and passions.  Whenever I neglected to paint—during my years on tenure track at the university—I would have a recurring, and obvious, nightmare, in which I let a pet in my care die of starvation.  Even though finding time for painting while teaching at the university was always an issue, I never questioned my artistic practice.  Art created much-needed balance in my life; it gave me a desired identity beyond that of the stressed-out university professor.  In the past several years, however, art has gradually become my central pursuit, my way of being in the world.  The pet has turned into a large, ravenous creature, and it has started to ask me uncomfortable questions.  How conscious am I really of what I'm doing as an artist? Why bother with art when everything seems to be falling apart around us? What is my social and political responsibility?  Do I even have one?  What can I hope to achieve as an artist?  What does it mean to be an artist in a digitally enhanced world?  Who are the artists that shape, and have shaped, my vision?  And again: why paint at all?
In the coming weeks and months I’ll be using this blog to grapple with these questions, and, hopefully, to engage you, dear reader, in a conversation.  Now, back to the studio.