Every beginning holds a promise and, at the same time, a mystery. When we sit before a blank page, prepare our materials, or simply allow our gaze to open to a new idea, we feel a rhythm activate that is beyond ourselves. It is the ancient beat of creation, which understands neither haste nor immediate results, but cycles.
The creative process unfolds like the seasons: there is a time for sowing intuitions, a time of silent gestation, and a time of blossoming. Recognizing these rhythms helps us to trust the journey and not to force what is not yet mature enough to be born. As in nature, works need their time of darkness and rooting before they can reveal themselves.
The start of a creative phase is not always loud. It can be a small gesture, a line drawn without pretension, an image that visits us unexpectedly. What matters is to open the inner space where these first sparks can take root. Sometimes, the cycle calls for movement and action; other times, for silence and waiting. Learning to listen to these tempos is an essential part of the craft of creating.
To begin is always to accept vulnerability: not knowing exactly where the stroke, the word, or the color will lead us. But it is precisely in this not-knowing that the true creative force lies hidden. Every new beginning is an opportunity to renew ourselves, to reconnect with the origin of curiosity and intuition.
Thus, the creative process becomes a dance with the cycles: a constant starting and restarting that reminds us that creation, like life, is never linear, but a flow that moves and breathes with us.