What progress looks like

I am a list person. Some might say a list addict. I’m known to write down the same to-do list over and over again in my journals, until they become less like tasks and more like mantras or meditations. And because I’m so committed to the list life, it’s sometimes hard to know when I’m moving forward. Even when I check off a whole litany of must-dos, there’s always another list waiting in the wings.

But this week, I got a huge sign of movement. And when it happened, I knew I was making progress.

This week, I got the keys to my own art studio.

It’s part of the Nicholson’s Project’s amazing six-month residency for local artists right here in D.C. You get a solo show. You get a curator. But most importantly, you get space and TIME to create as an artist. And anyone who knows the District knows how rare that is. Art space is hard to come by here.

In that moment, holding a simple silver key, I wanted to turn around and high-five both my 10-year-old self and my 10-year-ago self—the one who decided to start figuring out how to be an artist.

I still remember the awkwardness and even the shame I felt walking into a Blick store in Manhattan almost a decade ago. I bought a sketchbook, some pencils, and those gray gum erasers artists use. I had no clue what I was doing, but something inside me was shifting. I could feel it. Something was calling me back to a creative life I didn’t know I needed—but did.

Up until that point, I was (and still am) mostly known as a writer. A journalist. Words were my lane. So the idea of me picking up a sketchbook and trying to make art? For some people, it was too much. I remember one boss flat-out chastised me.

“You know that’s a sketchbook for art, right?”
His indignation was thicker than the book I had just bought.

I nodded, quietly, ashamed for even trying to listen to that small voice inside me. But luckily, I was in a “fuck you” kind of mood—and it didn’t stop me.

Now, a decade later—though it doesn’t feel that long—I’m holding keys to a dedicated art space. A space for artists. A space for me.

I say all this because a lot, and I mean a LOT, can happen when you keep your head down and stay the course. One day, you wake up and realize: real change has happened. Real growth. And as an artist, that’s the kind of growth that matters.

The good news? Growth is available to all of us, no matter your age, your race, your gender, or occupation. You just have to keep going. Growth is free... if you stick it out.

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Thanks, always, for being here.