During the long stillness of lockdown, creativity became both a comfort and a challenge.

Like many artists, I found myself disconnected from my usual rhythm. The structured projects, shared spaces, and sense of forward motion all fell away.

For months, I thought about why we create, why do I create for me? or others? what I was striving for. Like a lot, I struggled to create anything that felt real to the emotions and thoughts I was feeling.

After falling down a YouTube rabbit hole of small creators experimenting with paint and process, I decided to buy a small tin of watercolours, a medium I had never really used before.

At first, it was humbling. The colours bled unpredictably, forms dissolved, and nothing turned out quite how I expected.

But something in that unpredictability felt freeing. I started to let go of control, watching colour move, pool, and merge on the paper became a kind of quiet reflection. What began as simple experimentations soon became a daily ritual from 2020 to 2024. I would sit down each morning with my paints, reflect, and note little thoughts alongside the pieces.

Without recognising it, this process rejuvenated my love for journaling, a practice I’ve carried into everyday life even now, in 2025. It reminded me to be patient, to revisit the fundamentals, and to find peace in simply showing up. Using a medium you’re not yet “good” at can reignite curiosity in the most unexpected ways, reconnecting yourself with the pure joy of creating for its own sake.

So if feeling stuck, pick up a brush, camera, or any tool that feels slightly unfamiliar.