One Stroke at a Time: Lessons from My 100 Day Project
When I committed to a 100 Day Project, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was signing up for. I knew I wanted to grow as an artist, to deepen my Zentangle-inspired practice, and to see what would happen if I showed up with watercolor, ink, and curiosity every single day for one hundred days.
What I didn’t know was how much this daily practice would reshape me.
Showing Up Even When You Don’t Feel Ready
Not every day was easy. Some days I felt inspired, and ideas flowed freely. Other days I was tired from long shifts as a nurse, or distracted by the hundred little urgencies of life. But I learned that art doesn’t demand perfect conditions. It only asks that we show up.
A single wash of color, a single repeated line, a single new pattern—that was enough. Over time, those small gestures added up to something much bigger: not just a body of work, but a shift in how I see myself and the world.
Progress Is Quiet and Cumulative
The magic of a daily practice is that you don’t always notice the growth until you look back. Somewhere around Day 60, I realized my lines had become more confident, my colors more daring, my patterns more fluid. But more importantly, my relationship with art had changed. It wasn’t about results anymore—it was about presence.
Each page became a sanctuary, a reminder that beauty grows one mark at a time, even on the days when we feel scattered or weary.
Art as Connection, Not Isolation
During the project, I shared pieces online—tentative at first, then with more confidence. To my surprise, people responded. They resonated with the patterns, the colors, and often with the captions I wrote about resilience, slowing down, or choosing joy in hard times.
That’s when I began to see that art is not just personal therapy. It’s a conversation. My strokes and colors connected with someone else’s story, and suddenly the work lived beyond me.
Why Daily Creativity Matters
The 100 Day Project taught me something I’ll carry for life: creativity is not a luxury. It is a discipline of hope. Every time we choose to create—whether it’s a drawing, a poem, a song, or even a garden—we are practicing resilience. We are making space for delight. We are declaring that beauty and meaning are worth our attention.
And when we share our creations, we remind each other that we’re not alone. That’s the real gift of art: not just the finished piece, but the way it builds connection, courage, and belonging.
Where I Go From Here
Now, as I look back on those one hundred days, I don’t see just a stack of artwork. I see evidence that change happens slowly, quietly, through repetition. That joy is something we can build into our lives—one stroke, one day, one choice at a time.
My invitation to you is this: try your own version of a daily practice. It doesn’t have to be drawing. It could be writing, photography, journaling, or even five minutes of mindful breathing. See what happens when you choose to show up consistently. The transformation may be subtle, but I promise—it will be real.
