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There are moments on the creative path so small you almost miss them — moments that don’t look like triumph from the outside, but inside you, something seismic shifts.
Today, I looked at my photographs — and felt butterflies.
It might sound simple. But for a long time, I couldn’t feel my own work.
I could make it. Curate it. Polish it. Even be praised for it.
But feeling it — really letting it land in my own body, my own heart? That was a different story.
Why We Sometimes Can’t Feel Our Own Work
When you’re a sensitive, driven creator, numbness can creep in like fog:
Perfectionism teaches you to critique before you can admire.
Self-protection teaches you to armor up before you can soften.
Comparison teaches you to measure before you can marvel.
Overwork teaches you to produce before you can pause.
Slowly, without even noticing, you lose access to the original electricity that made you create in the first place.
You start living around your work, not inside it.
What Feeling Your Work Really Means
It’s not about thinking your work is perfect. It’s not about waiting for outside approval.
It’s this:
Feeling a small rush of awe — that this thing exists because you dreamed it.
Letting your own beauty affect you — even if it’s messy, even if it’s unfinished.
Belonging to your creation — not standing outside it with a checklist.
It’s like finding yourself in a place you built with your own hands — and realizing, for once, you don’t have to fix it. You can just live in it. Breathe in it. Be moved.
✨How to Start Feeling Your Work Again✨
Here are some practices that helped me find my way back:
1. Witness without fixing.
Look at your work the way you would look at a sunset. Not scanning for flaws. Not rushing to improve. Just being with it.
Let beauty exist without earning it.
2. Separate creation from critique.
There is a time to refine. There is a time to let be.
Feeling your work happens when you let creation and critique live on different days, in different rooms.
3. Revisit your work like a stranger.
Take time away. Then come back — not as the maker, but as someone stumbling across a beautiful thing they didn’t expect to find.
Notice what moves you without dissecting it.
4. Bless the imperfection.
Stop waiting to feel your work only once it’s “good enough.”
You are allowed to love the drafts. You are allowed to be enchanted by the almosts.
5. Create small sanctuaries for feeling.
Make a ritual: Light a candle. Play music that makes you feel something. Look through your art, your writing, your photographs — not with urgency, but with open palms.
Let yourself be affected.
✨What happens is this✨
You are not just making things — you are creating worlds that you can finally step into yourself.
You are not separated from your own magic anymore — you are part of it.
Your heart and your eyes are finally meeting.
You’re seeing your own grace.
This is the real success. Not external validation. Not numbers. Not trends.
The real success is falling in love with your own aliveness.
A gentle invitation: Choose one piece of your own work today. Witness it without fixing. Let it land. Let it move you.
I had the honor — and let’s be honest, the slightly sweaty, heart-pounding nerves — of speaking at WPPI in Las Vegas as part of the panel “The Butterfly Effect: Spreading Wings in Today’s Industry.” In this article, I’m sharing some of the key insights and quiet truths that emerged from that experience — not just what we said, but what it stirred. These takeaways are offered in support of fellow photographers, artists, and soulful business builders navigating an ever-evolving creative industry.
Ever felt completely overwhelmed by the amount of ideas swirling in your mind? Let’s talk about how to break free from the chaos, embrace the mess, and find clarity. No five-step plan — just honest advice from someone who’s been there.
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