Your next great idea is already in front of you

I’m a sucker for a good thunderstorm. 

I grew up in England, where real thunderstorms were rare—mythical, even. So since moving to California, I’ve savored the handful of days each year when we’d catch a single rumble. But deep down, I always wanted… a little more action.

This year, I decided to take matters into my own hands. 

I packed a bag and drove out to Tucson, AZ in August (monsoon season, I’d learned) with dreams of spending a week surrounded by nonstop thunderstorms. 

And let me tell you: this trip…

…was a total flop. Probably saw four drops of rain all week. 

But on day 3, as I was moping outside, I noticed this plain group of cacti. 

Then I looked twice at them. I noticed they kind of looked like a family. And actually, this family sort of seemed to be enjoying the view I’d written off.

I took a picture of them, doodled them to life, and realized that actually, dry Arizona is pretty cool, too. 

That moment turned the whole trip around. Instead of chasing storms, I spent the rest of the week bringing the landscape (and my boredom) to life through a series of lighthearted doodles—all because I stopped to take a second look at those unremarkable cacti.

Sometimes, the distance between you and an idea that changes your hand is the simple decision to stop and look twice.

Here’s what I mean:

We now have the expertise of the entire internet a prompt away. No topic is too niche to find a dozen influencers’ takes on it (yeah, the irony isn’t lost on me). If you’re like me, half of your bookshelf is full of books you’ll probably never “have time” to touch.

We aren’t short on information. We’re short on interpretation. 

Our brains are built to filter and compress the endless battery of data that reaches us every day. That process is useful; it allows us to work and live without getting lost in every little thing that demands our attention.

But we’re so used to doing this filtering that we often miss the ideas, perspectives, and opportunities to create change that we only notice when we take the time to look twice at what we usually dismiss. 

Looking twice is the core work of an artist—and it’s something we’d all benefit from doing more often. 

Next time you’re doing something that feels routine, stop and look twice at something—anything—that feels natural to ignore. 

My hunch is that you’ll start seeing questions, uses, and possibilities that were hiding in plain sight the entire time.