To Live is to Create

To live or to be alive. It’s something we are all searching for,  that internal feeling of fulfillment that makes everything click into place.

I’ve traveled all over Europe and across much of America. I’ve run 3 half marathons, jumped off cliffs into the Mediterranean Sea, run through the Scottish Highlands, danced until dawn in Ibiza, sailed across Lake Michigan, climbed to the top of Mont Blanc, and sat in complete stillness on my paddle board in the bay.

And yet, not one of those moments is what made me feel alive.

Have I lived? Absolutely. I have stories, stamps in my passport, medals, sunburns, and memories most people keep on a bucket list. But here’s the thing, I can’t jump off cliffs every Tuesday. I can’t chase adrenaline or novelty every single day. And what I realized is that I didn’t just want big moments of living. I wanted to feel alive in the ordinary. Every day.

One random day in January 2026, while mentally flipping through my extensive 21 year timeline of life. I had a realization: none of those experiences fulfilled me the way creating does. Not the way painting does. Not the way writing a blog post does.

All my life, I’ve been connected to art. But I was always gently, and sometimes not so gently, talked out of it as a serious path. My childhood dream was to work somewhere in the fashion industry. But when it came time to choose a major, I was advised to pick something more “stable.”

So I chose marketing.

And if you know me, you probably already know how that story went.

One intro to accounting class later, I was on a plane to Italy, convincing myself that adding fashion to my marketing degree would fix the disconnect. But even fashion marketing is still 90% marketing and 10% art. The spreadsheets were louder than the sketches. And my desire to create only grew stronger.

When I came home in the summer of 2025, I picked up a paintbrush for the first time since leaving for college in 2023. What started as a stress reliever became something else entirely. It became an addiction, not to success, not to achievement, but to the feeling of creating something out of nothing.

And that feeling? That was the first time in a long time I felt fully alive.

So when I realized I couldn’t sit through another semester of data and Excel sheets, taking a gap semester didn’t feel reckless. It felt necessary.

I know I’ve talked before about rerouting, about changing directions and allowing yourself to mold into who you’re becoming. But this chapter goes deeper than just switching paths. During my semester away from the classroom, I realized that if I was going back to school, it had to be somewhere that nurtured the creativity I had just rediscovered.

Which is when I decided to transfer to the Savannah College of Art and Design.

At SCAD, I can still pursue a structured degree like advertising and branding, but instead of just reading textbooks and analyzing case studies, I’ll be creating campaigns for real companies. I’ll be building brand identities. I’ll be collaborating. And I’ll be surrounded by people who are encouraged to create, not just consume.

So what have I been up to instead of posting on the blog?

I’ve been finding myself.

I’ve been painting. Drawing. Designing my apartment. Curating my own style. Rebranding not just my future career, but the way I see myself and the way I move through the world.

And somehow, this quiet act of creating has made me feel more alive than crossing off most people’s bucket lists on a random Tuesday.

I have lived.

But now, I live.

I live in the loud moments out in the world and in the quiet ones alone with a paintbrush and a blank surface. And that feeling, the steady, everyday aliveness, fulfills me in a way that doesn’t fade when the trip ends or the medal is hung up.

Sometimes rerouting isn’t about chasing a bigger life.

Sometimes it’s about choosing a truer one.