New Beginnings and Creative Risk-Taking

At the beginning of December, I resigned from my corporate job as a Design Program Manager to focus on my mental health and well-being. Taking this step back and prioritizing myself meant confronting my own hesitations about risk-taking.

A person sits on a stool at a desk in a bright, minimalist room featuring wooden shelves with plants and artwork on the walls. An old green door is partially open in the foreground, adding a rustic touch to the scene. — In my new studio space!

A creative workspace featuring a long table with art supplies, including pens, paint, and sketches. A large print of the moon is displayed on the table. Behind, a wooden shelf holds various art materials and a backdrop of an old, green door. — Workspace and shelves for art supplies.

As early as kindergarten, teachers described me as “careful” and “cautious.” After graduating from the University of Washington, I was never without a job—financial security has been a priority because it provides choices for me and my family. Financial stability was always emphasized, especially growing up in an immigrant family, sometimes at the cost of mental health and well-being. All of this is to say that making quick decisions has never come naturally.

On the other hand, creativity has always been my playground for bold experimentation and quick learning. Taking this time to focus on my mental health would also mean making more space to create as part of the healing process, so while I had never resigned from a job before, this time was different.

What does “risk” mean? I’ve discovered that risk looks different for everyone. While skydiving might feel like a minimal risk to some, it’s entirely out of the question for others.

Handwritten notes on a page with colorful ink splashes. The notes discuss concepts of risk, danger, and power, detailing their connections to Italian, Latin, Old French, and Anglo-Hebrew influences. — Interestingly, the root of the word “risk” points to danger, and the root of “danger” ties back to jurisdiction or power—and power means “being able.” My interpretation of the root is that taking risks means stepping into one’s power. When we take risks, we claim the power to grow and build confidence.

A watercolor palette featuring a range of vibrant colors arranged in a grid. The top section includes swatches of pink, red, orange, yellow, green, and blue, while the bottom section contains various shades of red, brown, purple, blue, and green in individual wells. — **Row 1:** Quinacridone Rose (DS), Purple Lake (WN), Permanent Rose (WN), Pyrrol Scarlet (DS), New Gamboge (DS), Hansa Yellow Light (DS), Green Apatite Genuine (DS) **Row 2:** Quinacridone Deep Gold (DS), Indanthrone Blue (DS), French Ultramarine (DS), Phthalo Blue (DS), Payne’s Gray (DS), Moonglow (DS), Payne’s Gray (WN).

I’ve found that creativity offers a uniquely safe space for risk-taking—a space where experimentation and confidence-building thrive hand-in-hand.

When it comes to art, there isn’t a right or wrong choice—art beckons us to play. For me, risk-taking also requires a safe environment, which is why I took another big risk this year by getting my own art studio to play and create in a space where I could push my creative boundaries and let my passion for art run free.

A collage of nine watercolor paintings featuring mountain landscapes. Each painting showcases different styles and color palettes, depicting mountains, trees, and vibrant skies in shades of orange, purple, and blue. The artworks are arranged in a 3x3 grid on a dark surface. — Polaroid mountainscapes with warm and cool skies.

A hand holds several watercolor paintings featuring a snowy mountain landscape under an orange and pink sky. Snow-covered ground and distant mountains are visible in the background. — Polaroid-style watercolors in the snow.

An organized workspace featuring a black pencil case with sketching tools, a variety of watercolors, and two watercolor paintings bordered with blue tape, depicting snowy mountain landscapes. A glass dropper bottle and a pink notebook are visible in the background. — Painting with a Demi Palette and Pocket Art Toolkit.

A black art case opened to reveal pens, accompanied by three watercolor paintings of anatomical hearts, two featuring vibrant colors and one in shades of blue. A small dropper bottle sits nearby on a dark textured surface. — In these paintings, I have begun to add more reds, versus the cooler tones I usually use.

In the safety of my studio, I set a plan to try new colors, explore different subjects, and commit to a disciplined creative practice.

One goal is to start working with warmer tones—I’ve noticed that I still feel uncomfortable using red, but now I’m actively pushing myself to incorporate it more into my work.

A color palette with various shades of red, orange, purple, and blue is displayed above a green watercolor paint set containing multiple vibrant paint colors in square wells. The background is a dark textured surface. — **Top row**: Pyrrol Orange (DS), Winsor Orange Red (WN), Cadium free orange, Winsor Orange (WN) **Middle row**: Shell Pink (Holbein), Quinacridone Burnt Scarlet (DS), Indian Red (WN), Neutral Tint (WN) **Third Row**: Cobalt Violet (WN), Permanent Magenta (WN), Cobalt Teal Blue (DS), Lavender (Holbein).

I have also been experimenting with structure, incorporating more geometry outside of different shapes, and playing with how paint spills out of the lines, even though it feels risky.

Drawing on advice from my time at The Oxbow School, I am returning to the practice of embracing and loving discomfort, which risk-taking inherently demands. I have these rules on the walls of my studio to remind me to love discomfort.

Notes titled "Oxbow Maxims" outlining eight principles or insights about personal and professional relationships, emphasizing love, alignment, approachability, growth, and seizing opportunities.

A watercolor painting featuring a triangle with layered gradients of blue and gray, depicting ocean waves at its base, a full moon inside a circle at the bottom, and concentric circles of blue above, creating an ethereal, cosmic theme.

Last year, I took another risk by learning how to ski. This year, I am challenging myself with tree runs and higher peaks—an experience that can feel extremely uncomfortable, especially on a new slope! But each time I look back after making it down a slope, I feel more confident and powerful, knowing I achieved something that once seemed daunting.

A hand holds a small sketch of tall, slender trees in a snowy landscape, surrounded by a forest of large evergreen trees and a blanket of snow.

A woman sitting on a snowy slope, wearing a bright yellow ski jacket and helmet, holds several colorful cards. Ski poles and skis are nearby, with tall trees and mountains in the background.

Risk-taking doesn’t have to start big. I tell my students in my workshops that we can start small—play on a 4" x 6" postcard before working up to a 15-yard canvas. Art is the ultimate playground for experimentation, and it’s a quick way to discover that you can do it, even if the outcome is uncertain.

When I worked in the corporate world, my motto was “Test and Learn.” I was fortunate to be on teams that encouraged experimentation, where failure and intellectual risk-taking were part of the process. No matter where you are—whether in a corporate meeting, launching a project, or creating art—ask yourself:

What do I have to lose or gain from taking this risk?

How am I growing and learning, and in doing so, how am I serving myself and my community?

These are uncertain times, but what is certain is that there is nothing bad that can come out of creating art!

Wherever you are on your journey with risk-taking this year, I hope you continue to find time for art and creative risks that will make you more capable and confident in who you are. I encourage you to share all the different risks you take, small or large—you never know who you might inspire or comfort when you do.

Sophia Trinh
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