Learning from Unfinished Stories

Not every story needs to be finished to teach us something valuable.

This month, I joined the microstory challenge by Venster Academy. It was an enjoyable experience, and I learned a lot, especially about how I sometimes drift away from the main idea. Because of this, I started a story that I didn’t end up finishing.

I even posted the beginning on Instagram. But after a few drafts, I wasn’t satisfied with it. Maybe it was the story’s shape, the message I wanted to convey, or a combination of both. It no longer felt right. The story grew too large and lost its subtlety, so I decided to put it aside for now.

For a moment, I felt a bit embarrassed since I had already shared part of it. But then I reminded myself that this is part of my creative process. No one is keeping track of what I post or don’t post. Sometimes, things are simply experiments, and that is a natural part of being creative.

Still, I want to share some of these drafts here. A few might serve as a good starting point for something new in the future. Others didn’t quite work. And that’s perfectly okay for me.

I also want to show what happens behind the scenes, the ideas and sketches that don’t make it to Instagram. They are my “bad drawings” or concepts that don’t fully come together. These are part of the story too.
Not everything has to be finished to have value. Sometimes just trying is enough.

As I accept these imperfect moments, I’m also looking forward to what’s next.

This weekend, I will participate in the summer weekend workshops by Sarah van Dongen. I am excited but also a bit nervous. These kinds of activities give me energy but can also be exhausting. Not because of sensory overload, as many might assume, but because of the challenges I face with my disabilities, such as connecting with others, having conversations, meeting new people, and eating together.¹

My feelings are mixed. I am grateful and excited to have this opportunity, to have a life where creativity plays such a significant role, something that was different before my surgery. At the same time, there is some sadness for what is no longer possible or what will never happen. I try to balance whether what I gain is worth the cost. Right now, I mostly feel eager to learn, observe, and nurture my creativity.

That’s all for today. Thank you for being here!

1. For those who missed it: two years ago, I had brain surgery to remove a tumor. Because some of my brain nerves were damaged, my tongue and vocal cords became paralyzed. This, along with a few other disabilities, means that I can no longer speak clearly or eat and drink through my mouth.

The past two years have been all about recovery, saying goodbye to my job as a child psychologist, and creating a new way to express myself through drawing and painting.