Creative mindset

A guided reflection on society‑planted desires vs. your own burning desire​. When I first opened Think and Grow Rich and read Napoleon Hill’s chapter on desire, I felt a spark—right before it was doused by a familiar whisper in my mind: “You need to be in MoMA. You need shows in Paris. You need glossy gallery awards to be ‘real.’”

Ever find yourself staring at your art supplies, wanting to create but feeling completely stuck? Maybe it’s the fear of imperfection, the overwhelm of a blank canvas, or just not knowing where to start.

Trust me, you’re not alone.

Starting is often the hardest part of the creative process—but it doesn’t have to be.

Here’s a simple mindset shift and a few practical tips to help you overcome that stuck feeling and get back to creating with joy.

1. Start with Bold Color Play Begin by applying bold colors to your canvas. Don’t overthink or hesitate—just start putting down colors you love. Your goal at this stage is to cover most of the canvas with different shades and marks, using a variety of tools.  This is just the beginning, giving you a base to

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit stuck when it comes to my collage practice. I love collaging—it’s something that comes so naturally and intuitively to me, especially when I’m working on sketchbook covers.

But when it comes to creating collages inside my dedicated collage sketchbook, I hit a wall. I find myself hesitating, overthinking, and even avoiding the process altogether.

Creating abstract paintings is a journey, much like living a human life. It’s filled with moments of spontaneity, mistakes, unexpected beauty, and deep reflection.

In abstract art, there are no strict rules to follow—only the freedom to express.

Every brushstroke tells a part of the story, and each layer builds upon the last, forming a rich, textured narrative that mirrors the ups and downs of our personal experiences. Through this process, we not only create art but also connect more deeply with ourselves, finding beauty in the imperfections and joy in the unexpected.

When we start our creative practice journey, the prospect of limitless freedom can be both exciting and overwhelming. Without structure or boundaries, we might find ourselves paralyzed by choice, unsure of where to begin. How can we keep our creativity flowing and make progress in our art? The answer might seem counter-intuitive, but it involves setting self-imposed restrictions to foster creativity and growth.

In the world of art, failure is often seen as a roadblock rather than a stepping stone. Yet, the truth is that embracing failure can be one of the most liberating and transformative experiences in our creative journey. Today, we’re exploring why getting comfortable with failure is essential for unlocking our true artistic potential and finding joy in our craft. By shifting our perspective on failure, we open ourselves up to a world of creative freedom and authenticity that can profoundly enrich our artistic practice.

Finding joy in art is a journey toward authenticity and self-expression. When you create art that reflects your true self, it stands out and resonates with the right audience. However, one of the biggest obstacles to making authentic work is the rush for results.

We often think that art should come naturally, as if talent is something we’re born with or not. But just like any other skill, creating meaningful art takes time and practice.

Dear Fear, I hope this letter finds you well. I know you might be surprised to receive a message from me, but I believe it’s time we had a conversation – one that has been long overdue. First, let me say that I understand your purpose and why you’ve been with me for so long.

Have you ever been captivated by the spontaneous flow of watercolor—the way colors melt into each other, unpredictable yet soothing? I have. I love the softness and meditation that watercolors bring.

But as someone who has painted with acrylics for over a decade, I’ve developed a special fondness for them. There’s something about acrylics—their versatility, texture, and vibrancy—that keeps drawing me back.

So I asked myself: What if I could play with acrylics in a way that feels like watercolor? That’s how this method was born—a playful, intuitive way to dye papers using diluted acrylic paint.