I can still remember the satisfaction I took from dragging a crayon against a particularly toothy piece of paper in a coloring book when I was very young. Unlike the cliché, I was trying to stay in the lines, but even then, it was the creation process that gave me the most pleasure, not the results. A year or so later, I began to draw freehand, and from that point on no blank page, post-it note, page margin, envelope, or napkin was safe.
Needless to say, that compulsion was what led me to become a graphic designer. Some people specialize in ideas, constantly scheming, iterating, finessing. I prefer doing. I don't know what makes me want to make, but often the impulse strikes without warning. If I don't satiate it immediately, it becomes a dull ache that lingers all day.