On incremental improvement, intentionality and imperfection

Years ago, when I lived in Potchefstroom, I used to attend a creative art class every weekend. I loved it.

I’ve missed that intentional time for creating, just me, paint, and possibility.

Recently, a new coffee shop opened nearby where you can order a cappuccino, a slice of cake, and an art project off the menu. I thought it was such a brilliant idea that I decided I’d go once a month.

But then it hit me… why not bring that experience home?

So now, every Sunday afternoon, I sit down with a homemade cappuccino, a little treat, and my sketchbook. I work on my ink and watercolour urban sketching, a format that draws me in completely. It’s challenging enough to keep me curious, and meditative enough to feel like therapy.

And honestly? I was not very good when I started. I am not even very good now (I keep the "Where we started" sketches in my sketchbook as a reminder of the humble bumbling beginnings 👀).

But it’s taught me, once again, how powerful consistent small steps can be.

Each week there’s a little progress, in line thickness, grounding, vanishing points, colour balance. And with each brushstroke, a little more confidence and freedom.

I’m not posting these because they’re perfect (they’re totally not 🫣).

I’m posting them because there’s such beauty in the imperfection, in the striving, in the quiet growth.

Gifting myself this ritual (this little pocket of creativity and stillness) has been one of the most powerful things I’ve done for myself this year.

☕🎨 Here’s to tiny incremental improvements, and finding joy in the process.