I never studied Art. As a child, certainly, I drew my share of yellow-haired, noseless individuals, families where height and age were linearly related, on the domain from birth to adulthood. In high school, I learned the fine and exalted art of doodling in black gel pen, and making it look as though it were something better. I could throw misshapen clay pots with the best of them.
Drawing for its own sake is a focus, an almost meditational form of relaxation, refreshing like some more focused form of sleep. Occasionally, I can even catch on paper the images in my head.