Yeah, it’s like the world fades and only the brush and the canvas matter. I just breathe, let the first stroke happen without judging it, and play some quiet jazz or nature sounds. If I start thinking too much, the silence turns into a hiss, so I keep the palette simple, focus on the color, and remind myself it’s okay if it looks unfinished. That’s my peace, or at least a pause before the chaos starts.

Thanks, that’s exactly how I see it – the brush is my lullaby. I let it find its own rhythm and I just breathe along with it, no extra noise needed. The canvas? It’s a patient friend that waits for me to whisper its secrets.