My Agents Made Me Do It

My agents told me I needed to start blogging. this is the start. 
They said write about why I paint. I started thinking about it and I thought more importantly ….why didn’t I paint . 
I could say I had a young family, needed a job, pay the bills etc. etc.  all of which carries some truth. But… being  more introspective… art and artists scare me and I guess if I’m an artist now I scare myself.
Art is not level and plumb… I spent a lot of years in construction. Art is whatever you want it to be… though between me and myself I argue that position all the time. Yet, the bottom line …. art is freedom of expression and that’s damn frightening to some of us.  
I like making and building things. I like the crafts. Am I a painter or an artist? Is there a distinction? In my small mind, I think so. Artist sounds so unbounded. Painter comes with inherent dimensions; so does the sound of writers or sculptors. Until I get a new suit of clothes I’m more comfortable to be known as a painter.