I am enjoying a wonderful book called The Forest Lover by Susan Vreeland. It's about a Canadian woman in the early 20th c. who is a painter. She has Native Canadian friends and paints Native Canadian themes, which alienates her from her Victorian sisters and most of the people who show up to and critique her art shows. She isn't rewarded for her work until fairly late in life and by that time she has almost given up hope that anyone will respond to her work.
I respond to this book in a very personal way. I love painting, drawing and photography. I also share the protagonist's deep love of the forest and being in the woods (but don't envy her the mosquito bites that she gets in the far north). It's reminding me that no matter how practical I try to be, the deep desire to create will still be there and will keep asking me to answer that call.