A labor of love

I have always wondered about the creative drive found within almost everyone.  Whether we cook, paint, write, sing, quilt, take pictures, play basketball, or design video games, there is something innate within the souls of men to create beauty.  This above all things, to me, witnesses to our divine origins for we are made (wonderfully and fearfully) in the image of God and He among all else is the Creator thus are we driven to create.  Monkeys have no poetry and the music of birds is more a tool than an art form.  Men alone have the capacity for beauty, wonder, and joy and all this we try to capture by manipulating the world around us in any number of ways.  Birds weave nests and monkeys use sticks as tools, but neither has ever produced a tapestry or a paint brush.  How does art (in all its forms) develop from an evolutionary perspective when it has no survival value?  We attempt it for sheer joy!  I have wondered why God bothered making everything when He knew the consequences that would follow, the disaster we would make of His masterwork the moment He gave us the keys.  Sometimes I think it must be for the sheer joy of creating and enjoying what has been created.  Much as a gardener will plant flowers even though she knows that weeds are inevitable; she loves her art enough to tolerate the weeding to carry on.  It can only be love!  But how can mortal mind comprehend such a love?  We can only be still and know.