From watercolors to workflows: How creativity is shaping my corporate journey

Looking back on a pivotal moment in my personal and professional life, I now recognize that I’d been looking for a creative pursuit away from my busy work life—something hands-on, simple, and calming. And with limited space in my flat, watercolor painting felt like a really good fit—all I needed was the paint, a few brushes, and some paper. Simple? Not so much.

I picked up watercolor in 2016, almost by accident. But what I didn’t know was that it’s considered one of the most challenging artistic mediums. That’s because, unlike acrylics or oils, you can’t easily fix mistakes, meaning every brushstroke matters. Once the paint touches the paper, it has a life of its own. 

At first, this felt frustrating and challenging. Watercolor is unpredictable and irreversible, and even if you plan carefully, once water and pigment meet, control is limited. Over time, I realized this was exactly what made it powerful, exciting, and surprisingly relevant to my work. 

Planning with intention, not perfection 

Because watercolor is unpredictable and there’s always this jeopardy because mistakes are so hard to fix, preparation really matters. Before starting a larger piece, I sketch drafts, test colors, and plan my steps: Background first, layering next, details last.  

I know I might not follow this plan to the letter, but that’s ok because I’m looking for direction, not certainty. 

To my surprise, I found this approach began to inform my strategic thinking at work. Careful planning while staying flexible helped me make decisions with intention, anticipate risks, and adapt in collaboration with our stakeholders to achieve the best results. Watercolor taught me that thoughtful preparation and adaptability are not opposites—they work best when implanted together as part of a strategic plan.  

Accepting change as a constant 

In watercolor, resistance only makes things worse, and if you try to “fix” a mistake, you often end up with muddy colors instead of clarity. The lesson is simple, although not easy to accept at first: Sometimes, you have to accept what’s happening and work with it.  

At work, uncertainty is constant, plans shift, priorities change, and new tasks emerge. Watercolor taught me not to fight it, but to adapt to it—to stay calm, observe and understand what’s unfolding, and adjust my approach.  

Instead of fearing uncertain outcomes, I learned to trust the process, even when the vision isn’t clear halfway through a project. 

There’s a moment in almost every painting when I want to stop. The colors aren’t working, the composition feels wrong, and I start thinking I’ve wasted hours. But my teacher once told me: “Work through this stage. Don’t judge too early.” And he was right. As layers build, clarity emerges. 

This resonated deeply with how projects—and careers—unfold. Midway through a challenge, it’s easy to lose confidence, but learning to trust the process, even when it feels uncomfortable, has helped me persevere professionally as much as creatively. 

Improvisation is a skill, not a weakness

Unexpected things happen constantly in painting: Colors bloom where you don’t expect them to, paper reacts differently, a brush slips. Over time, I learned not to panic, but to improvise—to turn surprises into features rather than flaws. 

Quieting the voice of imposter syndrome 

Like so many people, I also struggled with imposter syndrome—both as an artist and professionally. I didn’t have formal art training, and for a long time I believed I wasn’t “good enough” to share my work. 

Encouraged by friends, colleagues, and my teacher, I started sharing my paintings on Instagram. To my surprise, people connected with me, we organized workshops, and I saw that they appreciated not just the result, but the process—the imperfect stages, the learning, the effort.  

With that experience, my inner critic grew quieter. It hasn’t disappeared completely, but I’m now more able to move on and continue with what I am doing. That confidence carried into my professional life as well, helping me speak up more, trust my expertise, and my own contributions.  

Finding my community 

Through painting, I also found a community, Urban Sketchers, a global group of artists who meet to draw at different locations. We all paint the same scene, yet every result is different—and nobody is judged. What matters is the process and not the outcome—it’s such a confidence builder. It also exposed me to people passing by who wanted to know what we were doing and, as a quite introverted person, these interactions helped build my confidence. 

That sense of psychological safety reminded me how important it is to find “your” people—those who support growth, experimentation, and learning.  

At PMI, I’ve experienced that same support through the Women’s Inspiration Network in Krakow, Poland and other communities where collaboration, trust, and openness create space to grow and reinforce the same truth: We don’t develop in isolation. 

Creativity as a capability 

Watercolor taught me that creativity isn’t just a hobby—it can teach you about how to live your life. It strengthened my emotional resilience, decision-making, strategic thinking, and leadership skills. It helped me reframe failure, embrace uncertainty, and grow confidence over time.  

Whether on paper or at work, the lesson remains the same: Progress comes from patience, openness, and trust in the process—even when the outcome isn’t yet clear.  

And sometimes, the most meaningful growth begins with a little brush, some water, and the courage to make that first mark.