Of those who practice any of the three creative arts (writing, visual art, musical composition) the visual artist is luckiest.
There is always the world and here is always the self, the former ready to be represented, the latter expressed in any representation.
Even if his object is the chaos within or the image he creates is abstract, the materiality of painting or drawing connects him to the physical world. Or her to the physical world. Besides, she can work standing up and keep moving around.
Perhaps this physical character of showing is fundamental: why objects expose themselves to us, why girls take off their clothes, why my dog makes me watch him run around the yard – and when my other, more-creative, dog used to leave half-dead animals on the rug why I always told her how lucky she was. “What a lucky dog!”