Mostly, it's easy to find things that inspire me. Words and images, colors and smiles, beauty and meaning.
These days, it's easier than ever, with the whole world virtually right at my fingertips. But sometimes, it's too much. Sometimes, it all becomes the opposite of inspiration, it becomes overload. Too much information, too much visual stimulation, too much to absorb. It starts to feel like chaos.
There are days when I run around noticing everything, scattering myself here and there and everywhere, trying to take it all in, but in the end, it all becomes a blur. Of course, you cannot create in a vacuum, but neither can you create in turmoil.
One of the first things they teach you in design school is the value of white space. A place to let the eye, and the mind, rest. This emptiness serves to bring attention to what matters most. When you find the perfect balance between the focal point and the white space, that's when your piece is the most successful.
Some days, I feel like I need more white space in my life. And I am slowly learning the value of nothing. Of doing nothing, thinking nothing, creating nothing, even if it's only for short periods of time.
Because if I don't give myself the chance to do nothing, I lose something. If I keep filling up the vase with pretty flowers, eventually, some of the stems will be crushed. Some will break off. Either way, the flowers will wither.
But if I give myself space to breathe and room to grow, I can feel my mind and my heart and my art expand. That white space becomes the best kind of emptiness. The kind that lets me focus on exactly what is most important. This moment, this place, this love, this life.
And then when I draw that first line, or write that first sentence,
it is the echo of what's blossomed in my soul.