Open Your Eyes

September 18, 2025


Inspiration is everywhere, hiding in plain sight. The world hums with material, yet so few ever notice. The artist does. Or rather, the artist learns to. Because the artist is not born seeing. They are born looking, yes, but true seeing comes later. It is earned through years of observation, of paying attention even when there seems to be nothing worth watching. The artist becomes a student of everything. Nothing is too small. Nothing too mundane. The world never stops offering itself, it only asks that we meet it with an open gaze.

And so the artist watches. They watch others, their movements, their rituals, their quiet desperation and loud joy. They watch the world unfold and fold in on itself again. They watch their own mind, the way thoughts arrive, the way pain leaves traces in unexpected places. This constant noticing becomes a practice, and with time, a way of being. And from that, something begins to form. A way of speaking without words. A way of capturing life not as it is, but as it feels. That’s the miracle of it: inspiration enters through the senses, but creation flows from the soul.

What is seen outside is only half the story. The artist is a translator, and what they translate is not the literal world, but the language it speaks. Art begins with observation, yes, but it doesn’t stop there. It travels inward, through memory and dream, through ache and longing, until it emerges again, altered, personal, true. The artist holds up a mirror not to the world, but to the self that lives within it.

So open your eyes. Begin to train them, not just to see beauty, but to see meaning. Let your gaze linger longer than is polite. Let curiosity override habit. There is no such thing as nothing happening. Every moment, every flicker of light, is a possibility waiting to be noticed. The more you look, the more you’ll find, and the more you find, the more you’ll realize: inspiration was never scarce. It was always here, you just had to learn how to see.