Just me waxing about my inability to draw what most consider traditional art.

I am an Artist.
I use no paper, I use no pen.
My creations spring forth in a constant stream of consciousness for which I struggle to convey to others and the world.
I am an Artist mostly of the nontypical manor.
I create with words, wire and wrenches.
I see our world in a multitude of colors, never quite sure which are real or imagined.
When I came to the fork in the road and was asked to turn left or right? I looked up and said in that direction I shall travel.
I am an artist.
My life is my art. Created for an audience of one, and of only one critic.
My hope is that when I'm gone and things are finally at the end.
Of me they will say:
She was an Artist
She used no paper, she used no pen.