I don’t follow a plan. Never really have.
And the funny thing is — the best things in my life showed up exactly that way. Unplanned. Uninvited almost. My art started with inherited paints I never asked for. A door opened recently that I didn’t knock on — working with kids, sharing something I love — and it turns out it fits me in ways I didn’t expect.
You’d think I’d have learned to trust that by now.
But I still catch myself watching other artists succeed and wondering why it’s not me yet. Still measuring. Still waiting for the world to catch up to something I already know is there.
I keep having to learn the same thing over and over — that the path I didn’t plan is usually the one that was meant for me.
I don’t know why that’s so hard to hold onto. Maybe because the unplanned thing asks you to just… wait. And trust. Without proof. And some days that’s easy and some days it’s a hard pill to swallow.
But here I am. Again. Reminded.
