It wasn't easy, it was hard. Painful and scary and exciting and anxiety inducing and hopeful. I started by forcing myself to do it but the more and more I practiced the easier it became to search for inspiration within myself - like digging a well. At first it was sand and dust and rock; nothing alive. But the deeper I dug I found clay and mud and water and eventually I _learned_ how to find that spring of life within myself, and I could use that water to irrigate the fields and find life and mystery and inspiration in the world around me.
I don't know if art is what makes us human, but I found that art at least showed me what makes me feel alive.
Here's a song I thought of while writing this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FeD16vu_qQ