000002 — Rediscovering my work through my own eyes

There’s something strange about appreciating your own work. It’s not something we’re taught to do or even encouraged to do. And I went to art school, there’s no class on this sentiment, which feels ironic when you think about it.

We spend so much time looking outward for inspiration or validation that we forget to look inward. (I can’t be alone here. When I’m creating something new, my first instinct is to Google X inspiration. It’s helpful, but it can also pull me away from my own perspective. The better question to ask is: What do I want to create?)

Recently, I had a moment that stopped me in my tracks.

I was reviewing my Winter 24-25 collection of moments, seeing how all the pieces fit together. A bunch of seemingly insignificant snapshots, but together they started showing me a pattern: the same winter light, the same instinct for quiet frames, the same pull toward ordinary beauty. It felt like a first encounter, a moment of rediscovery. It deepened my appreciation, sparked a renewed energy to create, and reminded me how much I enjoy the process itself.

It made me realize how much time I’ve spent looking at other people’s work, taking in inspiration, absorbing tutorials, and listening to opinions without giving myself enough time to sit with my own.

There was a podcast I listened to recently where someone asked why people tend to dislike their own voice. The host, Vinh Giang, said something that stuck with me: “You don’t dislike your voice; you’re just not used to hearing it.”

That sentiment hit me. The more time I spend with my own work, my voice, my perspective, my craft, the more natural it feels.

When I paused to truly see my moments collection, I could feel my own style and instincts coming through. It made me want to create more, not for an audience, but for the work itself.

Appreciating your own work starts with trusting yourself. Seeing progress. Making space to recognize what you’ve built.

It’s easy to say, “If I like it, who cares if others do,” but harder to live it. The best way I’ve found is to reduce external noise—watch fewer how-tos, consume less content designed to tell you how to think or create, and curate the feedback you allow into your life.

Some voices matter more than others. I am learning that my own has to be one of them.