The Day I Stopped Managing Projects and Started Creating Again
The Day I Stopped Managing Projects and Started Creating Again
I went back to art school this year. After twenty-five years. I left my cooperate interior design job and started an art adventure.
Even typing that feels strange.
I already have a fine art degree. I built a design firm. I mentor designers. I have a full, busy life. Going back to school wasn’t logical. It wasn’t strategic. It didn’t “make sense.”
But there was something in me that would not quiet down anymore.
I’ve always been an interior designer. That’s the career, that’s the business. But deep down, underneath all of that, I have always loved art. Not decorating, not sourcing, not managing projects. Art. The kind that makes your hands messy and your brain quiet at the same time.
Many interior designers reach a point in their career where they feel more like project managers than creatives. Reconnecting with your creative process and mastering your hand skills can completely transform how you design, present, and lead your projects.
In one of my abstract art classes this semester, we were assigned to study a famous artist. Really study them, and read about their life. Understand their process, then recreate their work in our own voice. I chose Cy Twombly, Robert Motherwell, and Ellsworth Kelly. But Cy kept pulling me in. There’s something about his scale and restraint and bold imperfection that just speaks to me.
I went to see his work at The Menil Collection in Houston. No photos were allowed inside the museum, which I secretly loved, but I took it all in and it forced me to actually look. To slow down, to study the surface, the movement, the way the canvas was stretched differently than what we’re used to seeing. It wasn’t the traditional tight, expected stretch. It felt intentional, like he didn’t care what was standard.
I came home from that exhibit and immediately started creating. Sculptures. Large paintings. Pieces inspired by his loops and gestures, but filtered through my own hand. And that’s when I realized something about myself that has always been true: I don’t want the easy way.
I’ve never been drawn to the traditional stretched canvas. It feels too neat, too predictable, too simple and to formal. Since I was a kid, I’ve loved paper, any paper. Give me the brown packing paper from a shipping box and I will sketch on it before I throw it away. Give me a stack of “trash” paper and I’ll turn it into something beautiful. There’s something about paper that feels raw and forgiving and honest.
In one of my art classes, I learned that you can gesso almost anything. That was all I needed to hear. I went and bought a gallon of gesso. Now I prep large sheets of craft paper, you know the big rolls you get at the paint store. Sometimes I’ll spend an entire day just prepping paper, layering gesso, letting it dry, stacking it, preparing surfaces before I even know what will go on them.
And then the layering starts.
Not one layer of paint, not two, sometimes five or more. I don’t fully cover what’s underneath, I let parts show through. That’s where the depth comes from. The layers create movement and tension and something you can’t get from a single flat application.
The funny thing is, as interior designers, we already understand layering. We layer finishes, textiles, lighting, materials. We talk about depth in a room. But when it comes to our own hand skills, sketching, painting, rendering, we want it to look good immediately, we skip the messy part.
With my one-on-one clients on our mentorship, I assign something I call the Sketch Laboratory. It’s where all the studies live. Nothing polished, nothing client-ready, just exploration. Most designers don’t realize how powerful studies are. Picasso completed over 6,000 final paintings, but more than 35,000 studies in his life. The studies are where the real work happens. That’s where confidence is built and that’s where your hand actually learns what your brain is trying to say.
If I’m honest, going back to art school isn’t really about getting another credential. It’s about answering something that has been calling me for years. I used to tell myself, “You can’t paint.” “You’re not a painter.” “No one will care.” Meanwhile, my soul was screaming to just try. To stop managing everything and start creating again.
When I finally gave myself permission to paint, like really paint, something shifted. It calmed something in me that had been restless for a long time. I’m not painting for approval, i’m not painting for Instagram, i’m not painting to sell, i’m painting because I need to.
And I know there are other interior designers reading this who feel the same pull.
You’ve built the firm, you have the clients, you’re successful on paper. But somewhere along the way, you became the project manager instead of the creative. You miss using your hands, you miss sketching without pressure, you miss that feeling of being immersed in something tactile and expressive.
You might tell yourself you don’t have time, or that you’re not good at drawing, or that digital renderings are “good enough.” But underneath that, what you really want is to feel creative again. To master your hand skills, to present your ideas in a way that feels elevated and personal and distinctly yours.
I waited twenty-five years to fully step back into this part of myself. I don’t regret my path, but I do wish I had listened sooner. You don’t need a perfect studio or expensive supplies. You don’t need a traditional stretched canvas, you need paper, you need gesso. You need a willingness to do studies that no one sees, you need to let yourself layer and experiment and get it wrong.
There is something powerful that happens when your hands start moving again. It changes your design work, it changes your confidence, it changes how you see yourself.
If you feel that nudge toward creating more, don’t ignore it. Start messy, start small, start on the back of packing paper if you have to. But start. I beg of you to just start.
Sketch On,
Shannin
PS. Here is my painting supply list for you so you can start art too!
Craft paper on a roll, paint I use… Benjamin Moore Affinity, Hush, True black (ask them to mix you true black), and Fossil, Gesso, paint brush.
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