Just A Day
The Unfolding Is the Art
Not Today
Today was almost the first Tuesday I missed writing this year.
It’s 7:30 p.m. and I’ve decided that missing it isn’t an option.
Truthfully, yesterday was one of those days where everything felt just a little off. I spent most of it trying not to be annoyed, while everything around me seemed determined to test my patience. I had planned to varnish a box I’d made, but after getting delayed and not starting the sanding for hours after I planned, I was way behind schedule and playing catch-up.
It wasn’t a bad day. It wasn’t even a hard day. It was just one of those days that seems to stare you down and whisper, “Go on, react. Get annoyed. Get angry.”
But I didn’t. I saw it for what it was - just a day.
Sure, things didn’t go as planned. A client wasn’t 100% happy with a shoot I’d done (not really my fault, but I always want to get the best for the people I work with). Uploading photos took forever, which meant I didn’t leave for my parents’ place until after traffic had calmed. And even once I got there, it was another hour before I even turned the sander on.
But by 9 p.m., I was home. The boxes were installed, lids on, finished. And I could say, honestly, it was just a day.
The truth is, we can either carry everything that happens to us—or we can choose not to. Sometimes we create more frustration just by being frustrated.
Like joy, we can see more of it when we choose to feel more of it.
So here I am, 7:43 p.m., making the choice to write this email. To feel joy. To not be annoyed with myself for nearly skipping it.
I’m doing what I said I would, because just like in other parts of my creative process, I’m not trying to have it all figured out before I share. I’m sharing the figuring out.
I’m not looking for answers, I’m looking for better questions.
This week, I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to work out how to make an amazing display for Gaoth—something people can come and truly experience.
Honestly, the ideas have been spinning around my head so fast, it feels like I can’t catch up, let alone take action on any of them. So, here’s me telling you now:
I won’t figure it all out.
But I will keep experimenting and following the thread of creativity, and that will lead me exactly where I need to be.
This idea, the process of figuring it out, came up in conversation with an amazing artist friend today. They responded with this:
“Let go of the idea that you’ll ever have it all figured out. That notion, of reaching a final, fixed point of clarity—is a myth. The creative path is not linear, nor is it something to be solved. It is a living, evolving journey.
As you walk it, there will be moments of exhilaration—bursts of clarity, inspiration, and the sense that the sky is within reach. But there will also be times of doubt. Periods when confusion clouds your direction, when motivation wanes, and the path feels uncertain. This rhythm is natural—it’s not a sign of failure, but a vital part of the process.
To have it ‘figured out’ would imply that there’s nowhere left to go. But creativity thrives on movement, on exploration. It needs a direction, not a destination. The art lives in the search—not the solution. In that forward motion, your energy is activated. New ideas begin to emerge. People appear at just the right time, offering guidance, connection, or a shared step forward. Some will walk with you briefly; others may journey beside you for years. Each plays a role in shaping your path.
The moment you stop chasing a finished state, and instead embrace the ever-evolving nature of your path, something shifts. The unease begins to settle. You stop resisting the unknown and start recognizing it as home. This state of becoming is not a flaw in the system—it is the system. It’s where your voice grows, where your work deepens, and where your truest self finds expression.
To reach a final, complete state would be to lose the very essence of why you create. The end of the road is not completion—it’s silence. And for a creative soul, that’s not peace. That’s absence.
So walk on. Keep moving. Let the not-knowing be your teacher. The unfolding is the art.”
I don’t think I need to add much more than what she said.
7:54 p.m.
Not bad. Kept your word.
Love to all,
Adam
