Flow and Discovery

Writing has followed me for most of my life, but I started taking it more seriously about eleven years ago. Since then, I’ve filled over eight thousand journal entries and essays—far more than I ever expected when I began.

At first, I thought writing was about reaching a destination. A book. A magazine article. Something I could hold in my hands and say, “Look, I made this.” But over time, writing has revealed itself as something deeper. I’ve come to see it less as a finish line and more like a river—constantly moving, shifting, and shaping everything it touches.

The River’s Headwaters: Where Inspiration Begins

Life itself became my headwaters, overflowing with inspiration from different people, places, and moments that have drifted through my days. Some currents were calm, steady, and peaceful. Others surged with challenges—moments that stirred discomfort but, in the end, nudged me toward creative growth.

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”

Anais Nin

Writing has helped me do just that—live through experiences, then revisit them with a deeper understanding.

The Currents of Creative Discovery

Like a river, creativity has a way of shifting direction. The challenges I’ve faced—emotional, creative, and personal—have felt like currents pulling me toward unexpected places. They’ve changed me, even when I resisted. But they’ve also taught me that discovery isn’t about control but flow.

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”

Douglas Adams

Each challenge has reshaped my creative path, showing me growth doesn’t always look like progress—but it is progress.

Letting Go of the Destination

When I first began writing, I imagined my name on a book cover; copies lined up neatly in a bookstore window. I pictured my words in that magazine or my art displayed in a gallery for all to see. But over time, the river taught me something profound: creativity doesn’t exist to be seen. It exists to be felt.

I’ve learned to stop asking, “What should I be doing with my creativity?”, and start listening more closely to the energy it carries. The river flows not for applause—but because it must.

A Canvas That Keeps Expanding

For a long time, I thought creativity was about producing one extraordinary piece—something complete, polished, and final. But now, I see it more like a canvas that never stops expanding. The river doesn’t just flow in one direction. It branches off, forming new tributaries and connecting with other waters along the way.

Writing has done the same for me. It has introduced new forms of expression, reconnected me with old hobbies, and woven pieces of my life that once felt separate.

The creative process, I’ve realized, isn’t about completion—it’s about the experience.

Imperfections as Beauty

There was a time when I chased perfection—the right words, the flawless page. But writing has taught me that imperfections are the beauty. The things we often try to hide—the crooked photographs, the half-finished thoughts, the drafts we’re hesitant to share—are all part of the story.

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”

Leonard Cohen

These so-called flaws are where creativity feels alive. They make the work honest and authentic.

A Library for the Soul

Over these eleven years, I’ve unknowingly built a library for my soul. Not a library filled with perfect work, but with the pieces that shaped me—the scratched-out pages, the second prints, the journals filled with half-finished thoughts and ideas whispered at 2 a.m.

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

Marcel Proust

Looking back, I can see that even the unfinished work—the mistakes and rough edges—hold their own kind of beauty.

The River Has No End

There will never be a final destination. I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep creating. Not to impress, but because expression feels essential to who I am. The river keeps flowing, and so will I.

That quiet whisper—the one urging me forward—has replaced the critical voice I once carried. This journey, like the river, does not need a destination. It flows because it must.

“The only journey is the journey within.”

Rainer Maria Rilke

Also, this post includes some of my monotype prints—visual reflections of some of the creative flow I feel because of my writing. They’ve become a part of this ongoing journey, reminding me that art, like life, is always evolving.

Talk soon…

G