After launching my new course, instead of diving right into my next project, I felt an overwhelming urge to clean. To create order from chaos. To feel safe and comfortable once again. The tidying tornado that started in my art supply cupboard soon took over the whole house. The garage. The HVAC closet. The kitchen. The garden. Even our social calendar got Marie Kondo'd. There's something deeply satisfying about putting everything back where it belongs. About disposing of the broken and unused. About labels and bins. About knowing exactly where that tube of cerulean blue went to hide. As I sorted through piles of art supplies and half-finished projects, I recognized two competing forces within myself: the need for perfect order and the wild impulse of creative chaos. I felt like I was watching Felix Unger and Oscar Madison battling for control of my creative process. Back in my twenties, I'd end every evening watching "The Odd Couple" on Channel 11. It was my nightly ritual—right after "The Honeymooners," just before "Law & Order." At first, it was just comfort food, a predictable way to decompress after pitching ad campaigns all day. But now I think there was something deeper going on. Though the show was full of conflict and bickering, it was ultimately about something deeper: how different styles can coexist. Even thrive. What I didn't think about much back then was how perfectly these two creative professionals—a photographer and a writer—embodied the eternal struggle of every artist. Felix, the fastidious, perfectionist photographer, would've understood my behavior this week. Each perfectly sharpened pencil, each color-coded box — tiny triumphs of order over chaos. But Oscar, the writer whose desk is buried under half-eaten sandwiches and stubbed-out cigars, is the storm that precedes Felix's cleanup. He's about spontaneity and impulse, the wild energy of creativity that scatters tempera sticks across the room and half-finished sketches under my desk. It's messy, but it's alive. Between these two lies the creative process. When I began working on The Creative License, Felix was in charge. Research. Schedules. Lesson plans. But once that framework was in place, I let Oscar take the wheel. I experimented. I dreamt. I threw spaghetti at the wall (literally). Because my inner Felix had already established a framework, all of my Oscar-fueled ideas had a place to land. Order made space for chaos to become coherent. I needed them both. Felix, the perfectionist, might never have decided the course was good enough to launch. Oscar, the slob, might have lost the shot list under a pile of takeout wrappers and beer cans. Most of us naturally lean toward either Felix or Oscar — sometimes to our peril. We’re perfectionists afraid to ruin a new sketchbook by drawing in it. Or we’re creative dilettantes who don’t stick with a project and gain the insights of going deeper. But real growth happens when we push against those instincts. If you're a Felix, force yourself to create something messy. Set a timer for 15 minutes and make something wild without editing. If you're an Oscar, choose one project and keep polishing until it shines. Resist the urge to jump to something new until you've refined what's in front of you. Creativity isn't about choosing sides — it's about embracing the push and pull of opposites. The brilliance of "The Odd Couple" wasn't just its humor. It was watching Felix and Oscar change each other, slowly and reluctantly, episode after episode. Felix learning to loosen his grip on perfection. Oscar discovering the quiet satisfaction of a well-organized sock drawer. They showed us that growth isn't about erasing our differences. It's about learning to love them — and letting them make us whole. Your pal, Danny P.S. We have been watching the devastation in Los Angeles with horror. Jack and Amanda are in a safe zone, but many of our friends in Pasadena and the Palisades have been evacuating. If you live in the area affected by the wildfires, my thoughts are with you. Let me know if there’s anything we can do to help. |
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
When I was born, my name was Daniel Gregory. Before I was out of diapers, I was known as "Danny." Sometimes when my mother was trying to seduce me into doing something I was reluctant to do, she would call me "Dan." And of course, in any legal circumstance, going through passport control or signing up for a credit card, I was "Daniel." I had fantasies of being arrested because I'd called myself Danny, two bald scowling cops in a small room grilling me on why I was an impostor going by an...
When I was 16, I went to the Rhode Island School of Design summer program. I arrived as a pretty insufferable and opinionated know-it-all — no doubt the reason my mother was eager to let me run off to Providence for a couple of glorious months of art classes and unsupervised dorm life. One week, our design teacher gave us a tough assignment: use up an entire #2 pencil to create a single drawing. The next day, the classroom walls were lined with the results: sheets of paper grimy with...
At the west end of our garden, we have three enormous Chinese elms. They tower some thirty feet, a little cafe table and chairs tucked in their shade. A month ago, the tree on the right began to pump out fresh spring leaves. When my pugs and I strolled our street, we saw that the neighbor's elms were all getting leafy, too. But our other two elms remained skeletal, as naked as they'd been since fall began. I looked up at their bare branches and started to worry. What's going on with them? Are...