Just creating things this morning with some coffee. I’ve been thinking about how much I love art that feels simple on the surface—big color fields, simple shapes, the beauty of restraint. That kind of art has always felt powerful to me.
But when I’m making things, I struggle to stop. I keep adding, shifting, and repeating. Part of me wishes I could hold back more, and part of me hopes that the repetition is where my work actually starts to emerge.
I worry sometimes that the repetition might be a crutch and that I’m trying to hide my incompetence and complexity. I’m trying to trust that the process itself creates something beyond me—a thing that appears because I showed up and let it happen.
Nov 18, 2025 15:49
