As you can tell from the not-so-discreet title of this article, I am not exactly a great artist. I wouldn’t even consider myself “good.” Rather, I’d simply describe myself as very much okay when it comes to drawing.

But I’ve always been drawn to art, anyway. In fact, my parents – both art fanatics – began taking me to museums when I was still in a stroller, and even then, I loved to gaze up at the artwork on the walls.

So while I credit part of my love of drawing to my early exposure to the art world, I also think I got the art “gene” from my mom’s side of the family. My grandpa designed wallpaper, my aunt is an amazing singer, my mom is a talented drawer and crafter with killer handwriting, and my cousin is into photography, film and painting – needless to say, they’re a very artsy bunch, and I always like to say that I inherited the art interest, but maybe not so much the talent.

Nevertheless, the desire is there, and while art had always been my favorite subject in lower and middle school, I really began to draw in high school. I found that I could spend hours of my free time just sketching in pencil and charcoal, and I didn’t care that it was further from museum quality than a urinal (for all you fellow art geeks, yes, that’s an tribute to Duchamp).

The more I practiced, the better I got, and the more I found myself enjoying it. I knew this wasn’t something I wanted to give up in college, but I also knew my freshman year would be kind of a whirlwind, and I wasn’t sure how much time I’d actually devote to drawing. I brought my sketchbook with me, anyway, just in case it came in handy on a rainy day.

And as it turned out, it wound up being one of my favorite things I had at school. Although my sketching was fairly infrequent, I appreciated having my book there for the times when I just wanted to get away from technology or get my creative juices flowing. More importantly, it acted as a constant that I had from home – something I could seamlessly carry with me into my life at college for the times when I needed to just decompress or keep things simple.

There’s also something very therapeutic about art – after all, you’ve probably seen the adult coloring book craze. It allows you to express yourself, de-stress and let your imagination run wild. In a way, it lets you be mindful and mindless all at the same time.

So while my art skills are still quite average, I’ll keep drawing because it’s simply one of those things that I do for myself because I genuinely love it. It’s my hobby, but more than that, it’s a little reprieve that I know will always be there, easily accessible and always successful in giving me the creative outlet I need.