
every morning i make a cup of coffee, often a pour over. for days on end i'll use the same beans from the same bag, ground at the same coarseness with the same water temp and the same set up: carafe, v60, 02 paper filter. rinse the filter, add the grounds, let it bloom, graduate the pours. while i brew, i warm a mug with hot water. in the end: coffee.
eventually i find my way to a seat, pour, sip and experience something known, expected, and yet, wholly unique. it catches me out each day, a singular moment in time with a touch of nuance.

art is like this. rather, the process of art is like this. whether putting ink to paper or transforming code to pixel. the process may leverage the same tools day after day, but the outcome, moment to moment and result to result, is ever changing.
this can cause my mind anxiety, the expectation of what will be overshadowing the reality of what is. this feeling is often the very thing i'm looking to take a break from when creating and yet, it finds me time and time again. it sits squarely at the middle of the creative act, waiting to be encountered.
in the first half of my fortieth year (2025) i realized that something was off with my relationship to art. nothing drastic or dramatic, just shifted and more tense. i had a hunch this was related to the cross pollination of art output with social media.
with social engagement i often start with good intentions; choosing to share my process here, posting an art work there. inevitably, i find myself in a familiar territory of too much noise, distraction and well, ick.
around mid-year i found myself headed to british columbia for a van trip holiday and realized along the road north that, for the second year in a row, i had a fizzling desire to create. i’d brought my sketch book and camera as usual, but was too preoccupied with wading through a frazzled headspace to go deep into either. the daily online loop of design work meetings, art social engagement and constant news cycle had worn me back down. my wake up call was my partners reaction to our first 24 hours on the road when i found every opportunity to check my device. we have an agreed “van time is analog time” mantra and i was breaking it.

in 2024 a similar stress state had emerged, it was a bit later in the summer months and i took ~6 weeks away from my non-work day internet routine to reset. during that time i camped, paddled and biked my mind back to a state of calm-ish reality. in retrospect it’s become clear this wasn’t long enough; in 2025 the cracks emerged faster, with less definition. i could feel something wasn't the same, like a light was dimming, but couldn't put a finger on the what, why or how of it.
on the drive to b.c. i made a decision that up til the trip i'd been subconsciously chewing on, but unwilling to let myself fully embody. i wanted more than just “time away” or a “digital detox” — i wanted something that would help my mind take a deep breath.

i decided to take time off from expectation. the expectation that existed in a realm i had full control over, my art.
up til that point my status quo had become creating for the sake of keeping up with expectations i’d created for myself:
to show up on online, maintaining a productive presence: if they can't see you are you even real?
to deliver art for my subscribers: meet a deadline every month and deliver on a promise i'd made.
to keep pushing my own boundaries: learning new methods is time consuming and my time was being eaten by the two former expectations.
each of these were important to me, but also taxing in a world where artists often work full time jobs. in my case, a creative one that pulls on the same fibers used to weave my personal pursuits.
so i did it. i carved out some space and let myself off the hook. the result? i…
created less. read more. started writing again. exercised more. ate better. lost ~20lbs. traveled to some familiar and some new-to-me places. created more intentionally. finished one journal and started another. played with physical processes i love and tried new ones i’ve always been curious about.


the physical outcome of this period is the least volume of finished art i've produced in years.
the energetic outcome of this period is feeling more inspired than i've been in years.
i also realized something obvious in retrospect. i was still creating with expectations. mine. they'd just gotten more realistic. and less muddied by the noise of perceived influences.
thanks for reading, subscribe to receive new posts and support my work.
>200 subscribers

every morning i make a cup of coffee, often a pour over. for days on end i'll use the same beans from the same bag, ground at the same coarseness with the same water temp and the same set up: carafe, v60, 02 paper filter. rinse the filter, add the grounds, let it bloom, graduate the pours. while i brew, i warm a mug with hot water. in the end: coffee.
eventually i find my way to a seat, pour, sip and experience something known, expected, and yet, wholly unique. it catches me out each day, a singular moment in time with a touch of nuance.

art is like this. rather, the process of art is like this. whether putting ink to paper or transforming code to pixel. the process may leverage the same tools day after day, but the outcome, moment to moment and result to result, is ever changing.
this can cause my mind anxiety, the expectation of what will be overshadowing the reality of what is. this feeling is often the very thing i'm looking to take a break from when creating and yet, it finds me time and time again. it sits squarely at the middle of the creative act, waiting to be encountered.
in the first half of my fortieth year (2025) i realized that something was off with my relationship to art. nothing drastic or dramatic, just shifted and more tense. i had a hunch this was related to the cross pollination of art output with social media.
with social engagement i often start with good intentions; choosing to share my process here, posting an art work there. inevitably, i find myself in a familiar territory of too much noise, distraction and well, ick.
around mid-year i found myself headed to british columbia for a van trip holiday and realized along the road north that, for the second year in a row, i had a fizzling desire to create. i’d brought my sketch book and camera as usual, but was too preoccupied with wading through a frazzled headspace to go deep into either. the daily online loop of design work meetings, art social engagement and constant news cycle had worn me back down. my wake up call was my partners reaction to our first 24 hours on the road when i found every opportunity to check my device. we have an agreed “van time is analog time” mantra and i was breaking it.

in 2024 a similar stress state had emerged, it was a bit later in the summer months and i took ~6 weeks away from my non-work day internet routine to reset. during that time i camped, paddled and biked my mind back to a state of calm-ish reality. in retrospect it’s become clear this wasn’t long enough; in 2025 the cracks emerged faster, with less definition. i could feel something wasn't the same, like a light was dimming, but couldn't put a finger on the what, why or how of it.
on the drive to b.c. i made a decision that up til the trip i'd been subconsciously chewing on, but unwilling to let myself fully embody. i wanted more than just “time away” or a “digital detox” — i wanted something that would help my mind take a deep breath.

i decided to take time off from expectation. the expectation that existed in a realm i had full control over, my art.
up til that point my status quo had become creating for the sake of keeping up with expectations i’d created for myself:
to show up on online, maintaining a productive presence: if they can't see you are you even real?
to deliver art for my subscribers: meet a deadline every month and deliver on a promise i'd made.
to keep pushing my own boundaries: learning new methods is time consuming and my time was being eaten by the two former expectations.
each of these were important to me, but also taxing in a world where artists often work full time jobs. in my case, a creative one that pulls on the same fibers used to weave my personal pursuits.
so i did it. i carved out some space and let myself off the hook. the result? i…
created less. read more. started writing again. exercised more. ate better. lost ~20lbs. traveled to some familiar and some new-to-me places. created more intentionally. finished one journal and started another. played with physical processes i love and tried new ones i’ve always been curious about.


the physical outcome of this period is the least volume of finished art i've produced in years.
the energetic outcome of this period is feeling more inspired than i've been in years.
i also realized something obvious in retrospect. i was still creating with expectations. mine. they'd just gotten more realistic. and less muddied by the noise of perceived influences.
thanks for reading, subscribe to receive new posts and support my work.
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
Nice to see u again
https://paragraph.com/@mbranson/expect-everything-and-nothing
Hiya MB ✌️
heya rick 🖤
I love nothing, and everything, which includes nothing. ☯️
same.
m/b 🫂
🫂🖤