The other day, I was getting ready to leave our place in Gore and head back to Montreal. The car was packed. My bags were loaded. I was already running a little behind schedule.
Before leaving, I decided to stop by my studio for a quick moment.
You probably know where this is going.
My official reason was that I needed to grab something. My real reason was that I wanted to see how a painting had dried overnight. There's something about returning to a painting the next day that gives me fresh eyes. Colours settle. Shapes reveal themselves differently. Things I couldn't see the night before suddenly become obvious.
As I looked at the painting, I noticed one small area that I thought could be improved.
Just a tiny adjustment. Not enough to warrant putting on an apron. Not enough to delay my departure.
At least, that's what I thought.
I picked up a brush and made the change. Then another possibility presented itself. Then another. One small decision led naturally to the next, and before long I found myself fully engaged in a painting session.
There I was, dressed for the city, standing in the studio, paintbrush in hand, while the minutes slipped by.
What fascinates me is that this isn't the first time something like this has happened.
In fact, some of my most satisfying creative decisions seem to arrive when I'm not expecting them. When there's a deadline. When I have somewhere else to be. When I'm operating with less time and less opportunity to second-guess myself.
It's almost as though the pressure creates clarity.
When I know I only have a few minutes, I don't spend half an hour debating a choice. I trust my instincts. I respond. I move forward.
Of course, I'm not suggesting that every painting should be made in a rush. Most of my work requires patience, reflection, and many hours of careful attention. But there is something valuable about those unexpected moments when intuition takes over and thinking takes a back seat.
Perhaps creativity likes to sneak in through the side door.
Perhaps inspiration arrives most readily when we're busy making other plans.
Or perhaps artists simply have a difficult time walking past a painting without stopping to make "just one little change."
Whatever the reason, my quick visit to the studio turned into an unplanned painting session and a later departure than expected.
And as I drove toward Montreal afterward, I found myself smiling.
The painting was better for it.
