Perhaps it was no surprise that when life came to a standstill—stuck as I was in the restrictive and repetitive grooves of corporate work—my mind turned to calligraphy. All it took was a ring-bound notebook, some nibs, and an inkwell newly purchased to honor the art of letting letters dance, no matter how awkward at first.
Then I pick up a round paintbrush, dipping my toes in watercolor until all my interests blend into one another. I find delight in moving my hand freely and fluidly so my ideas can float onto the ivory page. Hues wash over until they leave faint impressions of familiar flowers and fabric.
Only somewhere along the way do I realize that these layers of artistry in me can inspire monograms and websites. Further down still, I realize I could impart them to others by teaching what I know.
Was it all a waste of time? I'd like to think otherwise. Each pursuit can be connected to my craft in one way or another. Whenever I need novelty for my next project, I could always look back to my montage of memories to fill my creative well. It turns my work into a collage of all my past movements. But I guess that's what sets my signature process apart.
So if you ever find your feet planted where you stand, terrified of trying anything new, just envision my younger self who aspired to be a ballerina. Little did she know that her curiosity would open up opportunities beyond her wildest imagination. In fact, she didn't know much at all. But she was determined to tie the ribbons of her ballet flats anyway—and reach for her dreams in tippy toes.
Here's to finding a creative endeavor that moves you.
