At work, optimizing is second nature. I write SQL queries for performance, build DAX measures that load quickly, design efficient data models, and avoid redundancy. Efficiency isn’t just a goal, it’s measurable. And it impacts user experience. The faster and cleaner I can get something done the first time, the better. If I revisit it later, it’s usually to make it even more efficient – in design or in function.

Painting is the complete opposite. I don’t track time, plan the most efficient process, or measure progress. I work on what I feel like that day; maybe a subject I’ve been coming back to for months, or maybe something brand new. I might start with one approach in mind and change it halfway through. I can paint over entire sections without worrying about wasted effort or “rebuilding” from scratch.

That doesn’t mean work habits never creep in. Sometimes I catch myself tightening up, chasing a specific look instead of just experimenting or going with the flow. It can feel frustrating when my focus shifts from trying something new to “getting it right.”

On the other hand, repetitive details, like painting fur, can be relaxing. Unlike the constant decision-making of my day job or the early stages of a new piece, these moments let me zone out. I can put on an audiobook and get lost in the process. Some paintings are finished in a couple of hours. Others get reworked multiple times.

I don’t approach painting with a plan to get the most out of my materials or time (though, of course, cost still matters). It’s about enjoyment, not efficiency. And while I genuinely enjoy my day job too, painting is a different kind of satisfaction.

Sometimes I focus on improving specific techniques, but more often, I try to just follow where the brush takes me. Painting is the one area where I’m okay with progress being less efficient. It’s the break from optimization I don’t get anywhere else. And when the outcome surprises me in a good way, it’s even better.