I painted this when I was 14 years old.

Until then I had only drawn with pencil, but a middle school teacher handed us brushes and said, “Try oils.” Something clicked. I didn’t know it then, but that moment opened a door that would stay with me my entire life.

Creativity became a constant companion.

For many years I worked as a fine artist and graphic artist, eventually moving into web design, which I still do today. Different tools… same instinct: creating something from nothing.

Then something unexpected happened at 60 years old.

The canvas changed again.

Instead of brushes and pixels, I picked up words.

Writing books became the newest creative expression. And the more I write, the more I realize that storytelling isn’t that different from painting.

A sentence has line.
A paragraph carries weight.
A chapter creates shape and depth.
Stories bring texture, contrast, color, and light.

The medium changed—but the artist inside stayed the same.

Many of the ideas that flow through my books—Stillness in the Storm, Unmasked, No Grapes in Grateful, Our Bad Choices, and others—are really just paintings made of language. They explore the same things every artist tries to capture: meaning, struggle, beauty, stillness, and growth.

Looking at this painting reminds me of something important:

Creativity doesn’t expire.
It simply evolves.

Sometimes the brush becomes a keyboard.
Sometimes the canvas becomes a page.

And sometimes the thing you were meant to create…
doesn’t begin until later in life.

So I’m curious:

What creative spark have you carried with you since you were young—and where has it taken you?