When I was at the peak of my advertising career, I was fired. It turned out to be a gift. The job I’d been dismissed from was enormously stressful and involved several dysfunctional and borderline personalities. But I was too bedazzled by my title — Chief Creative Officer — to quit when I should have. I spent the next few months thinking about the lessons I’d learned and what I should do next. I decided to travel around the country to talk to artists and start writing a new book. A book about drawing and sketchbooks and the creative process, how it works and doesn’t, what it means to be creative, how to stretch and grow — even if you have never thought of yourself as creative before. That book became The Creative License: Giving Yourself Permission to be the Artist You Truly Are. It is the most successful of my books — millions have read it in many different languages — and it’s now over twenty years old. Over the years, I have gone from the author of The Creative License to a reader. I take it off the shelf every year or so and find it’s full of things I still need to be reminded of. To take risks, to experiment, to trust myself, to focus on the process over the results, to seek inspiration, to draw. A few months ago, I invited you to join a mystery course—one I didn’t name or describe but promised would ignite your creativity. Today, I’ll solve the mystery. (Drumroll...) That course is The Creative License: Giving Yourself Permission to be the Artist You Truly Are, a new course based on my book. It’s a 31-day journey designed to help you rediscover your creativity and embrace life as an artist. Over 31 days, you’ll:
The Creative License isn’t about perfection or talent—it’s about showing up, experimenting, expressing who you authentically are, and accepting yourself as an artist — even if you never plan to be a professional. I have to tell you — I have had as much fun making this course as I did writing the book. I have experimented and played and stretched lots of my original ideas in new directions. It’s been a blast and I’ve learned so much. Are you curious to learn more about the course? Visit our website for all the details and sign up today.
Starting today, The Creative License is officially open for enrollment. And beginning on January 1st, the lessons will become available, day by day. As a Danny's Essays subscriber, you can get 15% off the full price through the end of January just by using this link. Or use the code at checkout: TCL15 And, if you need a last-minute holiday gift, there’s an option for that right at checkout too. I hope this new course will inspire you as much as it has me. Let’s make something amazing together! Your pal, Danny PS: If you have never read my book, don’t worry - it is not a prerequisite to enjoying this course. If you have read it (thank you), just know this course is not a rehash — it is fresh material that uses the ideas in the book as a leaping-off point. I am packing the course with lots of ways for you to experience surprise and delight. PPS: You can decide how and when you want to experience the 31 lessons. You will have lifetime access to the pre-recorded materials on our platform and can work at your own pace. PPPS: In case you were wondering — when I finished writing the book, I jumped back in and spent the next decade in the advertising world. Then I quit for good and started Sketchbook Skool! |
Each Friday, I send advice, ideas, stories and tips to 25K creative people like you. Author of 13 best-selling books on creativity. Founder of Sketchbook Skool w 50k+ students
One of the last theatrical experiences I had before the pandemic has stuck with me. We went to see Gatz, a wonderful staging of Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. The play isn’t based on the novel. It is the novel. All 49,000 words of it, read aloud, over eight hours (including a few intermissions). All they left out were the chapter titles. Gatz was a profound experience and I’ve thought about it a lot, about what I felt as I sat in my narrow theatre seat for the better part of a Friday. The...
The roast chicken is in the oven, potatoes, and some steamed spinach. I just poured us two glasses of chardonnay. I call out, “How much time till we eat?” Jenny replies, “Twenty-five minutes.” Now what? I have some energy, but not a lot. I don’t want to exert myself anymore today. It’s Me Time, a little snack-sized serving to do something for myself. How often life serves up these little gaps in the day, time I might waste by scrolling on my phone. These are some of the things I did...
When I was about fifteen, I developed an obsession with the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. It is a wonderful place that wraps around the back of the granite walls of the Brooklyn Museum. I would take the #2 train of a Sunday and stroll its grounds in a sort of fugue. I wouldn’t see the old ladies with their walkers or the bearded hippies studying the vegetable garden or the Bangladeshi families in their Sunday best taking family photos with their Instamatics. They didn’t exist because I was...