Today, I took time to clean all my brushes , every single one of them, all 80. It was both a practical task and a symbolic act of renewal. As I washed away the layers of dried paint, I felt as though I was clearing space not just on my palette, but in my mind and spirit too.
These brushes have been with me through countless paintings, each bristle carrying traces of past colours, emotions, and stories. Some are worn, others still sharp and full of energy, but each one has been part of my creative journey. Cleaning them felt like saying thank you, for helping me bring my visions to life, for being my companions through both frustration and flow.
There’s something deeply grounding about caring for the tools that serve you. It’s a quiet ritual of respect and gratitude, acknowledging that creativity isn’t just about inspiration, but also about the simple, loving maintenance of what helps you create.
As I set my clean brushes to dry, I felt a sense of lightness and readiness. It’s like clearing old energy to make way for new ideas, new colours, new beginnings. I am grateful for my brushes, for the art they have helped me create, and for the new stories they will soon help me tell. ✨
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