Artists spend so much time trying to control the river.
We sketch, we outline, we build these little blueprints of who we think we’re supposed to be.
We treat creativity like a construction project.
Like if we plan hard enough, we can force the masterpiece into existence through sheer will.
But that’s not how nature works.
That’s not how you work.
A river doesn’t plan its path before it flows.
It doesn’t sit there like: “Alright, I’m going to make a left at the rock…sharp right at the oak tree…then a dramatic turn toward the sunset.”
No…
It responds.
It listens.
It moves with what’s already there.
And by doing nothing more than following the path of least resistance…it carves canyons that outlive civilizations.
Your art is no different.
But oftentimes we build dams.
Not out of concrete, but out of “shoulds.”
Out of expectations.
Out of fear of being misunderstood.
We block our own river with all the ways we think our work is supposed to behave.
“Does it fit the style?”
“Does it match the plan?”
“Does it look like what I envisioned three months ago?”
Every one of those thoughts becomes another piece of debris clogging the flow.
Meanwhile, the work is pounding on the dam like: “Let me go. I know where I’m trying to take you.”
And here’s the wild thing…
The river has always known the way better than the architect.
What if you moved the blueprint out of the way?
What if you stopped trying to force the masterpiece?
And instead became the canyon the masterpiece moves through?
What if your real genius isn’t in the planning, but in the allowing?
In removing the dam.
In letting the creative force carve its own path through you even if that path looks nothing like what you imagined.
You might be shocked by where it leads you.
Because flow doesn’t just create art.
Flow creates you.
And if you let it…
It will take you somewhere bigger, truer, and more breathtaking than anything you could have planned in advance.
Stay creative,
