I’ve been thinking a lot about change — how we resist it, chase it, fear it, need it.
And then I thought: every painting is change.
You start with an idea — a color, a shape, a feeling — and then something unexpected happens. The brush slips. The color turns muddy. A line goes rogue.
In a traditional class, that’s a “mistake.”
In my world, that’s the moment something real begins.
This is where it gets interesting. Do you panic? Freeze? Try to fix it? Or… do you stay curious and let it show you something new?
I call these “happy accidents.” Not because they’re perfect, but because they’re true. And they invite you to respond — not with fear, but with freedom.
That’s how I see creativity. Not a formula to follow, but a relationship to grow.
Not five brushstrokes to the perfect flower — but one wild move that opens a door.
And honestly, that’s how I see life too.
Most of us weren’t taught to trust our intuition. We were taught to follow rules, check boxes, be nice, be good, stay in line. But intuition? That’s a different voice. It doesn’t shout. It nudges.
I teach people to listen for that nudge.
On canvas, and off.
Because what I really care about — more than painting “well” — is that you express something true. That you learn to trust yourself. That you get curious about what happens next instead of shutting it down.
And that you stop seeing the unexpected as a mistake.
It might be the very thing that makes your painting — or your path — unforgettable.
