We spent the day with friends we hadn’t seen in over a year. Lovely humans… the kind whose presence feels like a deep exhale. The kids tumbled into play like they’d been waiting for this moment.

Lately, my life has been all forward motion, all positive change, yes.
Positive doesn’t always mean comfortable.

Being with our creative friends stirred something I hadn’t noticed had gone quiet.
I wanted to draw again.
To pick up a brush, just to see the colour move, to make something that has no purpose but to exist because my soul insists on it.

It’s been… way too long, and somewhere in that gap for the past half a decade or so, I let other voices in.
People laughing,“Why bother with art? AI will do it better anyway.”

It took me a while to understand that people don’t fear art because it is small.
They fear because something inside them went quiet long ago.
Wonder, and hope, feels dangerous to those who have lost their own.

Today, sitting in the warmth of friendship, I thought:
“Who would mock someone else’s joy?“

Probably someone who is hurting, probably someone who has not felt safe enough to be themselves or play in a very long time.

If that’s you, I’m sorry for how the world made you forget how to create.
I hope you find a spark again, whatever form it takes.
The days are long, but the years are short.
I don’t want mine to pass without a little paint on my hands.

Do what you love.
Love what you do.
And if the world forgets why that matters,
keep doing it anyway.