One of my Substack subscribers recently pointed out the AI-generated art I use for these posts.

They said how it’s always these abstract flows… and how it aligns perfectly with the messages I be sharing on here.

I’m not gonna lie… I almost cried.

It’s dope to know y’all really paying attention to the details—
because I sure do too.

Nothing I put out is random.
Even when it looks loose… it’s intentional.

And that moment made me realize something.

I think I’m falling in love with Cubism.

I didn’t expect this.

Cubism came about in the early 1900s—artists started breaking away from trying to paint things “realistically” and instead began showing multiple perspectives at once. A lot of that shift was influenced by African masks and sculpture—forms that weren’t about perfect realism, but about essence, structure, and spirit.

That shift changed modern art forever.

And somehow… it found me.

Because when I look at it, it doesn’t feel like I’m learning something new—
it feels like I’m remembering something ancient.

The way faces break apart.
The way perspectives stack on top of each other.
The way nothing is forced to be seen from just one angle.

It hit me.

Not polished. Not perfect.
But intentional.

That’s what got me.

Because it reminded me—
you don’t have to present yourself one way to be understood.

You can be layered.
You can be fragmented.
You can be multiple things at once… and still be whole.

That did something to me creatively.

Now I feel this pull to draw again.
Not for a project or for content.
Just to respond to what I’m feeling.

That’s the part we don’t talk about enough—
inspiration is not just something you admire.

It’s something you answer.

And answering it requires something simple, but hard:

You gotta be quiet long enough to let it in.

No rushing.
No trying to make it useful.
No pressure to turn it into something “good.”

Just… fascination.

The kind you had as a kid.
Where you weren’t thinking about outcome—
you were just inside the moment.

That’s where I’m at right now.

No shame.
No performance.

Just letting something new reshape me a little.

And this time… I’m not interrupting it.

-Gold