A Visual Study in Letting Go: “The One I Would Want”

I painted a picture. The One I Would Want. It’s a story. A shift in perspective and…

Despite the planning, prepping, journal entries and sketching, and despite the thought and the reflection that went in to being ready to take on this new creative endeavour, what was revealed on the canvas when I stepped back was nowhere near what I had set out to create. And I was delighted. What I set out to create was something other people might want. What I actually created was something I would want. The One I Would Want, as it turns out.

Let me explain.

The Artist Knocking at the Door

A few weeks ago, I began to feel restless in my consulting business. Nothing new about that: business has always been one of those things that no matter how well I’m doing, I find myself wanting something more. Different. Sometimes, I find myself wanting less.

Privilege aside, wanting more or less is something I think we all struggle with from time to time, especially when you’re someone with the capacity to go full throttle. Or if you’re someone who finds it hard to take your foot off the gas. Hi, it’s me. I’m someone.

So when I did the math of what it was costing me to keep showing up to fix other people’s problems, even in a slower-paced business model that I’ve been rocking for a couple of years, I decided it was time to do something different. Not forever, obviously, I’m someone who has the capacity to go full throttle, remember? But I am also someone who wants to slow down a bit right now.

Not forever, not completely, but for right now. And I know myself well enough to know that I can’t just stop working. So I came up with the idea of a self-directed artist-in-residency program where I’d take the money I’ve been earning in my consulting business and self-fund a year of creative exploration.

A Year of Creative Making

A few weeks later and here we are: smack dab in the middle of my first piece of self-commission art. But I didn’t create it for myself, despite the title that emerged for the piece: The One I Would Want. I created it to be the first in a series of 12 pieces that are based on a book I started writing called, Unscale.

I’ve written several chapters of Unscale already and while I have plenty of writing experience, something about putting that book into the world right now doesn’t excite me. It’s still in the works, don’t worry. But I’m taking a pause on writing that business-focused book to focus on more creative projects.

Unscale was meant to be a guide, and maybe a little bit of a journal, exploring the idea of breaking down a business instead of building it up. I had made big changes in my consulting business over the course of the last three years: I hired, then fired numerous employees, let go products and services. I raised my rates, shifted focus, changed client bases, and then went all in on the idea that I could work less and earn more. And I did. At the time of writing this article, I’m charging my consulting clients $50,000 per project.

How I charge so much and how I made those shifts in my business is what the book is going to be about. But what I felt while I was making those changes and even now that they are in place and my business is thriving, I’m searching for something else. Something less “for hire” and more “maker.”

I realized I was on to something when the thought, “I don’t want to be for hire anymore,” popped into my brain. And then I finished that thought with another: “I don’t want to fix things. I want to make things.”

Having a Maker Mindset

The thought of making came full-circle and aligned with the idea of Unscale so well, that I knew that I was on the right path. Of course, it’s not the path most people would choose, but that’s pretty on brand for me too.

In true Heather fashion, I burned my consulting business website to the ground. I’m still consulting. Calm down. But I do have a plan to reduce the amount of work I take on this year and as I said, I’m spending the next 12 months making.

This isn’t the first time I’ve created space in my life to explore my options though. There have been other times when I’ve hit pause on the revenue-generating machine that is my business and went off on the path less travelled. Figuratively, and literally.

In 2021, I wrote myself a cheque from my business to fund 3 months of writing work I wanted to focus on. I had a desire to learn how to write and publish romance novels. While most people would think they must be born writers, I knew that writing and developing stories was a skill that could be honed over time. I’d already spent most of my life writing one thing or another, so I focused on how to write a novel from start to finish. And before I knew it, I had three. Now I’ve got six smutty romance novels on the shelf.

In 2022, I planned to take the entire summer off to drive across Canada by myself. It had been on my bucket list for as long as I could remember, and so that year, at a time when gas prices had never been higher in Canada, I packed up my little tent trailer and hit the road for 45 days. I drove 16,000+ km all over this country and I slept for two days straight when I finally returned home. I’m planning to launch a course this year about how to get out there and do the things you want to do.

In 2023 and 2024, when I was going through a divorce, I took long weeks of time away from my work to focus on myself, my son, and my mindset. I also moved twice, bought a house, said goodbye to some unhealthy ways of being, and when I got back to work, a little broken and a little bruised, I switched things up in my business so they wouldn’t feel so heavy.

Now, in 2025, I’m doing it again. But this time, I’m exploring much more than just a new skill, home or countryside I’ve never seen: I’m exploring my creative side.

Choosing Different, Even if it Seems Scary

Deciding to change directions mid-year probably sounds like a nightmare for some people, but it didn’t take me long to realize that I’ve got what I need to make this happen. I’ve built my business. I’ve curated my life into what it is today. And if I want it to be different, it will be. I just have to start.

The One I Would Want isn’t just a piece of art. It’s a statement. It’s another stake in the ground on the path I’m choosing to explore. Even before I had started, I reminded myself that once I’ve made up my mind about something, it doesn’t take me long to take action. Except this time, I want to take different action. I want to take the kind of action that fills me up in a different way. Helping clients and fixing problems in my consulting business is rewarding. But so is making something from nothing with your hands. It just so happens, I’m good at both.

The funny thing is, even if I didn’t think I had the talent and skill to pull something like this off, I would still do it. I’d learn. I’d teach myself. Or I’d find someone to help me.

I know that if I continue to focus on my consulting business, it will grow. But I also know, if I start to focus on my creative projects, they will grow and become more. I want more of that kind of growth in my life right now.

Themes of Art and Life

Unscale has several underlying themes that I’m exploring, even if they aren’t showing up the way I thought they would. I sketched a piece of art as a draft. And then I put paint to canvas and laughed when I stepped back and saw what the act of letting go could produce.

The same is true when I sit down to write a story: I have an idea in my mind of where I want to go, but then the story and characters and plot take on a life of their own and I’m so lucky to bear witness. I also happen to be the one to make it all real. Ideas become books. Lessons become courses. Expression becomes art.

I’ve had many ideas over the years and I’ve learned many lessons. But I’ve held back the part of me that expresses for the sake of expression. As a serial entrepreneur, every interaction, idea, story, tool, framework and system becomes an opportunity to create something tangible in the world. And I’m good at it. But frameworks lack emotion. Tools are cold and sterile. And systems are meant for output.

Over the last year, I’ve come to realize that I could do my job as a consultant with my eyes closed. I’ve been doing it almost ten years: creating online courses and developing systems, processes and frameworks for others to thrive. But now I’m ready to work with my eyes open. And that’s where this creative platform comes in. This is what it means to Unscale in real time.

There are no systems, processes or frameworks here, only curiosity, expression and exploration. There is art and story. Lots of ideas, and learning. In this season of life, I’m making what I want to make. I’ve spent the last ten years developing products I can sell that meet the demands of an ever-changing market. And now I’m spending one year creating beautiful things that I want to see in the world.

The First Piece of Unscale: The One I Would Want

The first piece in the Unscaled collection was supposed to be called, Tension: Wanting More. Doing Less. It’s based on the idea that business owners are told to scale, grow, and do, be, sell and have more, but wishing they could actually do less. In fact, I can attest to the sheer amount of Tomfoolery that entrepreneurs subscribe to in the hopes that something will help them be more efficient. I found myself growing like crazy, but asking the questions, “At what cost?” and “Why?” I wondered where the disconnect was coming from on a constant basis.

When I answered those questions, I realized I wanted a different business model. Simple. Repeatable. Profitable. That’s why I started unwinding my business a few years ago. That’s why I began to imagine a life where business wasn’t the focus, but the engine that fuelled my life. And I did it. I undid what I worked so hard to do. I changed my business model.

So when I finished the first three rounds of painting and covering and painting the Tension piece again this morning, I loved what I saw, but it wasn’t what I had planned.

There was tension, sure, but it wasn’t on the canvas. It was in my body. I felt the urge to just stick to the plan, to do the thing I said I was going to do. It pulled strong. But I also felt the urge to follow the feeling in my stomach. To trust that what would emerge was going to be a real representation of what I feel right now. I laughed out loud, grabbed a better lighting source and shone it on the canvas, and then laughed again when I realized I’d completely missed the mark of my original intention.

What I had painted was The One I Would Want. I painted something I would hang in my home. I created something from nothing but a feeling.

Trusting the Process

I know I’m on the right track. I write this even as the website isn’t finished and I have no idea what this adventure is going to produce long-term, but I know I’m on the right track because I followed what felt true in the moment to me. And I know this is the right path because that feeling created something that will muster feelings in other people.

I didn’t solve a problem or take a meeting, and I didn’t feel like I needed to over deliver to impress a client. I just made something that felt important and impactful to me. And now I’m sharing it with you.

Here’s some behind-the-scenes shots of my time spent creating the first piece in the Unscaled Collection: The One I Would Want.

If you like what you see and want to stay up to date on what’s happening with this year of creativity, feel free to join my mailing list below. I’ll be sending out monthly updates. I’ve already decided I’m not going to become a content machine, so once a month is enough. That’s not the kind of stuff I want to make. But this piece of art? This is exactly the kind of stuff I want to make: The One I Would Want.

If it speaks to you, I invite you to consider purchasing it for your home or office.