Creativity is a messy, unpredictable, exhilarating process—just like life itself. It begins with a blank canvas, a space of infinite possibility, and with each stroke, splash, and smudge, we start to see something beautiful emerge from the chaos.

At first, the process feels thrilling—colours bleeding into one another, the brush moving freely, no rigid plan, just raw energy flowing onto the surface. But then, the unexpected happens.

The brush slips, the water cup is mistaken for coffee, a blotch appears where it wasn’t meant to be. Mistakes. Accidents. Frustrations. The unpredictability of creation mirrors the turbulence of life—the disappointments, the uphill battles, the moments where things refuse to go as planned.

The most breathtaking works of art are often born from experimentation, from surrendering to the unknown and daring to explore. The act of creating is never linear. It demands resilience, an openness to discovery, and the courage to keep going even when the outcome remains uncertain. This is where we learn to..

Trust the process.

In solitude, we find the space to transform pain into purpose and channel our emotions into something tangible. The loudest storms often carry the seeds of our greatest growth. It is through this process—of rising, rebuilding, and re-creating—that we move closer to ourselves, to our mission, to the dreams we dare to paint into reality.

Like a cactus standing firm in the desert, we learn to adapt, to root ourselves deeply in our purpose while reaching for the sky. The desert, vast and unpredictable, offers no clear paths—only a boundless horizon waiting to be explored.

To create is to navigate this terrain, consciously choosing a direction while allowing space for detours, adventure and moments of discovery that shift our entire perspective on life.

And still, there are moments of doubt. When the colours muddy, the composition doesn’t feel right and the process drags on longer than expected.

Now all we want to do is rip up our creation, laugh at our attempts and blanket ourselves in self-pitying thoughts. We want to run back to our safe-space of 'not trying' so we can free ourselves from the embarrassment of ‘ I knew it wouldn’t work anyway.’  

Except, we can’t. Hiding our dreams no longer feels safe because we’ve had a taste of what could be. The ‘itch’ is still there. This is where patience becomes our greatest ally.

Every rejection, miss-stitch and failed attempt is merely a redirection. Nothing is truly wasted. The joy is in the process: how we overcome and find new ways to patch things together.