Why I Write

So today my English teacher asked us an interesting question:
"Why do you write?"
A bit of an odd question, or so it seemed, to someone like me.  And it took me quite some time before I came up with the answer.
I write because I am an artist.  Art comes in many forms.  Sometimes, my emotions are best expressed when I sit down at the piano and let my fingers flow across the keys, creating something unique and beautiful.  Once in a while I can express myself best through a carefully arranged photograph, or a snapshot of something that snatches something and holds it forever, a moment too quick for the eye or the mind to follow.  Other times, what I feel is better expressed by paint, and the nasty emotions I feel are captured in color and motion, pinned on the canvas for me to examine at my leisure.  And still other times, words are the brush that I use to color my world.  My thoughts, my feelings, my insights and inspirations and inquiries, are simply sometimes best expressed through words. 
Some people say that a picture is worth a thousand words.  But to a writer, the right word is worth infinitely more.