People often think the journey of art begins with a finished piece, but most of it begins with a whole bunch of ideas that build on each other.
Today you get to my messy sketch process, including a couple oops! moments.
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Creative splat!

This week has been all about balancing my creativity with the necessities of my life. I have tried to embrace moments of stillness (not easy, let me tell you!) as well as get things done even when I don’t want to do them. The content of this post is a bit of a throwback, but it reminds me why I do what I do. Getting messy isn’t something to be feared! Rather, it is a reminder that art is more about the process than the piece that ends up on the wall.
Mess = Masterpiece?
When I decided to scrap my very first “drop painting” (not sure what it’s called, but I still have never gone back to it!) I was worried that the idea I had in my head wouldn’t translate well on canvas. It was one of my first intentional abstract pieces and I just had a few hours of practice before jumping in. I first threw down tons of paint colors and ended up neutralizing with more blacks and whites on top. To this day, it remains one of my favorite abstracts, and I do plan to try more this year, particularly to represent my journey as business owner.





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And today…
I feel like I have so many creative ideas in my head and I have to prioritize. It is difficult to decide which ones should be an issue for this week and which ones I need to mull over for a while. The ideas are half the fun, especially as it’s a good excuse to use in my journaling, so I’m writing down some early plans that I might think are brilliant later. In reality, I will probably look back at these rough starts and be glad that I didn’t actually start making them into something.
The future is bright!
However your idea starts, don’t be put off by the messy beginnings. It might take a little more effort and a lot more time to actually turn into something. Maybe it will be better in a few years when you can partner up with someone, or maybe this is just the seed of an idea that is going to grow into something great really soon! Whatever your creative path looks like, I hope you enjoy the process and practice embracing the mess!

Creative Prompt:
I want to explain to you, my readers, that I am learning right alongside you! Though I am very consistent at journaling and novel writing, I’m a novice when it comes to short stories. I love the ability with a novel to rainbow, and have all of the time in space to work out mini drafts before publication. With my idea of weekly short stories this year, I don’t quite have that luxury. Of course, I hope to sift each story through a couple of drafts, but with my business and a job running concurrently most weeks, I will be happy to get 500 words down. Maybe some weeks I’ll end up sharing this part of a story or even a poem, but, if you’ll take on the challenge to spread your wings with me, I would love to accept this exercise. I am hoping to improve my. “thinking-outside-the-box” mindset with so many topics covered and embrace my favorite part of writing: that it doesn’t have to be perfect to be shared. I hope in this year of short stories to find a couple gems, or even ideas for future novels, but really, I will use it to open up new pathways into how I see the world. It might not always be pretty, or easy to write, but it will be beneficial, fun and eye-opening for us. Most to read my blog will not (yet!) attempt to this, but I hope someday to hear back from a couple of brave riders and courageous beginners who decided just to start putting down words— merely to see where it takes them! Join me?
The Prompt:
A character finds a notebook filled with drawings that seem to predict the future.
Next week I’ll share the short story that came from this.
Last week’s prompt:
Write about a place where someone goes to hide and unexpectedly meets a friend.
Hiding in a public place might seem absurd, but it’s the perfect place to blend in. So I chose the most random place I could think of, and walked in the place armed with my computer, noise canceling headphones, and my notes from my last meeting. Nobody asks questions and that’s perfectly fine with me.
Right as I’m adjusting the font on my newest spreadsheet, my coworker’s latest comment flitted through my head. I thought I was over it, but apparently my grievance is not ready to be ignored, like an annoying moth that gets trapped inside the house.
I turn up my music and refocus, intent on getting things done. Yes, I can do this. It has only taken me two days to brainstorm for this latest project and I’m not going to let some careless comment ruin that. Just as I type out a new line, a kid with a stuffed bunny waddles past my table. He can’t be more than three and is sporting a shirt with airplanes. His mom scoops him up and motions to the pastry corner, which I wisely avoided, so as not to have a sugar crash in two hours. As my thoughts go back to the sheet in front of me, a commotion draws my eye. This short guy argues with the barista, apparently over the ingredients in a pound cake, and he soon after stalks off, seemingly with an apology but without a refund. The young woman who has been here over a year seems a little shaken up and mentions something to her manager behind her, quick to turn on her smile for the next customer. I wait a few minutes, my eyes peering over my computer until the line goes down. I attempt to talk to the cashier, but she waves me off with a brave smile and watery eyes.
The third distraction of the day doesn’t even go up to the counter, but stares at her phone, talks quietly and insistently, and then leaves. I watch her for a few minutes, tempted just to let her be. She exited the building because she wanted to be on her own, right? She looks down at her feet and turns to come back in, raises her hand, then runs her hand through her hair. She paces in front of the store window. I can’t let it go. The bell jingles as I open it.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She waves me off as expertly as the barista. Then before I know it, she’s pouring out her entire life’s story, all in one long, run-on sentence. “It’s just this thing at work keeps getting bigger and bigger and I just found out that my best friend who lives in another state went into labor early and I’m excited for her but so sad that I missed it because my flight out there isn’t until next Monday. Not really a big deal.” She pads this freak-out with a insistent dismissal. She half laughs, half sniffs. “What about you?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. I like to escape to coffee shops.” She nods and I expect her to walk away or go back to her phone. I would if I were her.
Instead she continues to nod, like she really wants me to say something else. “I just got a promotion in my job and though it’s exactly what I want, I feel in over my head and then because I asked for this, it seems like asking for help is the last thing I can do.”
…
For the time that I allowed myself, this is as far as I got in the story.
Happy writing,
Hannah Marie.
