The Hidden Hours of Creativity

Great design doesn’t happen in the hours you bill. It happens in the space between—where intuition, refinement, and time shape something truly timeless

"Can you do it in 10-15 hours?"

My estimate was 50.

The question was polite, professional. Maybe even well-intended.
But beneath it, I heard something else:
How hard can it be? A quick sketch, some color swatches, a selection of materials. Right?

A client who didn’t know.
And me? I nodded.

I knew better. But I went along with it.

Because that’s what I did.

Design is my passion. I see spaces before they exist.
My eye for aesthetics never rests.
I think in light, in textures, in movement.
I dream in design.

And yet? I charged for 15 hours.

And worked 50. Maybe 60.

Creativity doesn’t fit inside a stopwatch

A great design isn’t made in the hours you bill.

It happens in the space between.

In the subtleties.

The way morning light moves differently than evening light.
The way a floor should feel under bare feet.
The perfect balance between structure and softness.
The placement of a single towel hook—just right, or distracting.

Design isn’t a formula. It’s not copy-paste.
And AI? It hasn’t learned to capture feeling yet.

I still hear a client say, But with your experience, shouldn’t it be faster?

No. Quite the opposite.

Because experience doesn’t mean rushing.
It means knowing when to slow down.
To let a design settle. To refine, to rethink, to perfect.

Why I stopped making concessions

I used to say yes.

I thought it was part of the job. That clients simply wouldn’t understand.
And honestly? I needed the work.

So I adapted.
I charged what they thought was reasonable.
And filled the gaps with passion, dedication, late nights.

Until I realized: This isn’t on them. This is on me.

I was the one allowing it.
The one who didn’t set the boundaries.
The one who worked for free, because I wanted it to be right.

Until one day, I started saying no.

And you know what?

Everything changed.

More no = more yes

With every no to a project that doesn’t feel right, I say yes to myself.

And strangely enough… the right projects find me.
With clients who understand what great design requires.
Who value the process, not just the outcome.
Who know that a home isn’t just furniture and color—
it’s an energy, a presence, a feeling.

I should have done this years ago.

Not because I know better.
But because I know what a design needs.

And that’s the only measure that matters.

Saying no to the wrong projects is saying yes to yourself. And in that space, the right opportunities find you.

What do you think? Is creative work still undervalued?