

When everything in the creative world feels like it’s shifting—tools, platforms, strategies—it’s easy to think reinvention is the only path forward. But sometimes, staying put is the most radical move you can make. This is a reflection on the balance between innovation and expertise, chasing inspiration vs. staying grounded, and how to keep your voice from getting drowned out in the digital noise.
One of my closest confidants reminded me of a lesson during a late-night dog walk. You know those end-of-day rambles—when you turn to your person and quietly ask, “Can we talk business right now, or should we save it for Monday?”
Thankfully, it was the right moment. The air was thick but gentle, soft enough for light linens. The bugs were humming but not biting. The kind of night where the scent of grass opens up your brain just wide enough for creative chaos to flow in.
I started rattling off: Framer’s latest updates, Figma integrations, social media’s shift toward SEO, a few typographic musings, some animation ideas, a side rant about consumer goods and market patterns, a line or two from Braiding Sweetgrass, and the new Alison Roman scone recipe I will get right this summer.
And somewhere in the middle of that mental mess, I blurted,
“Should I just flip my website?”
There was a pause. Then a smirk.
“Remember that song? Don’t go chasing waterfalls.”
If you’re a creative or small business owner, you know that “flip the whole damn thing” feeling. It usually comes when things are a little too quiet, or your brain is buzzing with new inputs and inspiration.
Sometimes, the impulse is real—something needs to shift. But other times, it’s just restlessness. It’s Summer. Business is slower. The sun is loud. Everyone’s at the beach. And you’ve finally got room to think.
So instead of rebuilding my studio’s website from scratch, I took a breath. And I remembered what that TLC lyric really meant: just because something looks shiny doesn’t mean it’s worth chasing.
A few days later, I stumbled across a clip of Kevin O’Leary talking about Steve Jobs and his ability to manage “signal vs. noise.” The idea is simple but potent: most of what demands our attention is noise. The real magic is in identifying the signal—the few things that matter—and tuning out everything else.
The team at Routine.co explains it well: signal is the meaningful, actionable information that drives your work forward; noise is everything else—the random, reactive distractions that pull you away from what matters.
That’s when it hit me: chasing new platforms, aesthetics, trends, or tactics isn’t bad—but when you start doing it reactively, without intention, it’s just noise. And the more noise you let in, the harder it is to hear yourself think.
Over this time of pondering, I started thinking of my creative process in two distinct modes:
This is the brain that knows your craft. It’s the one that says, “We’ve done this before. Here’s what works. Let’s trust it.”
This brain fuels growth, experimentation, and evolution. However, it also becomes overstimulated if it doesn’t have a structure to bounce off of.
The trick? Don’t let Brain 2 start driving before Brain 1 sets the map.
When you’re about to chase a new idea—or blow something up creatively—try this sequence:
Refine those. Optimize. Get clear on what you’ve built.
Now that you know your foundation, play. Take a day to sketch, scribble, rethink, not with the pressure to change, but with the permission to imagine.
Ask yourself:
That’s sustainable innovation: additive, not destructive.
The line between following your intuition and falling for a trend is razor thin. Especially in design, where clients love what looks familiar, and you can easily confuse cultural relevance with creative instinct.
Here’s my quick gut check:
If the answer feels rooted, it’s intuition. If it feels performative, it’s probably trend-chasing.
When was the last time you gave your work space to breathe?
No meetings. No scrolling. No problem-solving. Just stillness.
Sometimes, the deepest growth happens when we pause—when we sit with our process, question it gently, and return with more clarity than we had before.
Not everything needs to be flipped. Sometimes, it just needs to be seen again with fresh eyes.
This blog is really a memo to myself, and perhaps a note for you as well if you find yourself in the same boat. I didn’t rebuild my site. I didn’t rewrite the script. I let myself feel the waterfall moment—and then I stayed grounded.
In a time where every new tool promises transformation, I want to offer something else: refinement. Stillness. Sustainable creative growth.
So if you’re feeling the itch to chase, pause. Your voice already matters. Your process already holds power.
Let your work deepen. Let your voice get louder.
Not trendier.