The 100 Day Project

What do you do when you don’t have anything to work with?

Can I tell you a secret?

I’ve been hiding from my art.

It’s true. I’ve been hiding anywhere I can, really. In the kitchen sink piled high with dirty dishes, somewhere around the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, and in a bucket of Winter Lake by Benjamin Moore. I painted my bathroom, by the way—it’s blue.

As much as it pains me to say, I may even be hiding behind this very newsletter. Writing has been scratching enough of a creative itch to sustain me, but I still find my heart twinging when I come across a sketch or watercolor online that I desperately wish that I had made. I get so irrationally angry that it makes me want to kick and scream and throw my phone across the room, proclaiming myself a talentless sellout. My sister always says that jealousy is an excellent guide for figuring out what you should be doing with your life, and I’m starting to believe her.

Somewhere along the road to September, I convinced myself that if making art doesn’t come naturally to me, it must mean that I don’t like doing it that much. I should pack up my little paint brushes, hang up my beret, and clock in @ Corporate America for the rest of my life. Pretty ridiculous, right? Unfortunately, creativity isn’t convenient like that. You frequently have to wrestle with it, much like an elementary school-aged child, to sit down and do their homework. As much as creativity is fueled by passion, it’s also a discipline — that’s why it’s called an art practice. And you have to show up to practice.

If you are a follower of my monthly Creative Curriculum series (first of all, hi! I love you), you would know that a big part of September is The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad. This book explores journaling as a practice to connect with your creativity, and I’m lucky enough to be discussing it with The Mood Board Reading Group for the next several weeks. A lifelong journaler, I was immediately drawn to the premise of this book. I’m only a few chapters in and have found that the short but thoughtful essays paired with engaging journaling prompts have already gotten the gears turning in my artist brain.

It was through The Book of Alchemy that I first learned about The 100 Day Project, or doing one creative act that you can repeat for 100 days. Coined by Michael Bierut, a designer and Professor at the Yale School of Art, this project was born from his own personal mission to draw something every single day, inspired by an image in The New York Times. In the wake of 9/11, it was a way for Bierut to engage with current events and his grief as a New Yorker, on his own terms. Eventually, this became a project he assigned to his graduate students in a graphic design class he taught at Yale, and since then, it has taken on many iterations.

From Suleika Jaouad who built a community navigating life’s interruptions through journaling to Lindsay Jean Thomson who turned the concept into a yearly online global art project, it’s safe to say I’m not the first nor the last who The 100 Day Project has struck a chord with. “The reason that this project works is the reason anything works,” says Bierut. “You can do it on your own terms in your own way. It has nothing to do with any expertise that I or anyone else would profess to have about it. It’s that old saying: The only way out is through.”

Forget Princess Mia, I’m trying to be Helen Thermopolis.

I’m an Artist’s Way dropout. Yep, it’s true. Alert the press! Julia Cameron herself can give me a big fat F if she wants to. I’ve attempted The Artist’s Way twice, and as much as I love the program in theory, I have yet to make it to the 12-week finish line. My problem with The Artist’s Way is that it became yet another way to hide from my art practice. As a chronically introspective (some would say neurotic) individual, filling up journals, ruminating on those who’ve stifled my creative journey, and taking myself on inspiration dates comes so naturally to me it’s almost like breathing. I was spread so thin writing letters to my former mentors and perusing button shops, I didn’t have any extra time to actually make any art. It became yet another excuse.

What I like so much about The 100 Day project is that it’s simple and to the point. It’s one creative act that you do every day for 100 days. That’s it. No bells and whistles, no fanfare. No extra homework. It’s structure without the pressure, and as someone who’s been feeling creatively blocked but simultaneously strapped for time and energy, this appealed to me immediately.

“People have asked me many times to say what, exactly, is the point of this project. I’ve always had a fascination with the ways that creative people balance inspiration and discipline in their working lives. It’s easy to be energized when you’re in the grip of a big idea. But what do you do when you don’t have anything to work with? Just stay in bed?

— Michael Bierut on The 100 Day Project

When it came to selecting my medium, there were multiple options to consider. The Book of Alchemy suggests using the readings and prompts to guide you on 100 days of journaling. Since I journal most days anyway, this didn’t seem like enough of a challenge for me to qualify it as a project. My inner sabateur was so close to turning this into a social media series. “What if I post on TikTok every day for 100 days?” But that’s my comfort zone talking. My day job is in marketing, I’ve made content for 11 years — I know that world inside and out, and ultimately, it’s still left me feeling like something is missing. Considering I’ve been real mopey about my lack of artistic momentum lately, I figured this was the perfect opportunity to dust off my sketchbook.

One of my favorite sketchbook spreads.

The Idea: Make art every day for 100 days. Anything from a doodle to a sketch to a full-blown painting. Although I will most likely document the process here and there, nobody has to see what I make. It can be absolutely terrible, and I’m sure some days it will be. The goal isn’t necessarily to make good art but to show up for my art practice every single day, even if it’s only for 15 minutes.

The Timeline: I will begin this project on September 15, 2025. This is the first day of my new job, and I want to establish healthy creative habits and work-life balance early on to prevent my inner artist from being left behind in the throes of my 9-5. The final day of the project will be December 24, 2025. Because ultimately, this project is about refuelling my creativity and not about burning myself out, my due date will be New Year’s Eve to account for the hustle and bustle of the holiday season.

The Fine Print: It’s important to consider details like when and where a new habit will take place. Amidst the slog of daily life, it can easily be swept under the rug if there’s no dedicated time or space for it. Because I already do morning pages basically every morning, I will be penciling in my daily sketchbook time after journaling while drinking my morning coffee at my desk.

Make it Nice for Yourself: I learned this simple yet effective framework from an art class I took at Supplies for Creative Living in Cold Spring last year. The teacher encouraged us to have everything you need ready to go somewhere in your home so there is as little as possible keeping you from making a mark in your sketchbook — whether that be a desk, a tray, or a project pouch that you take on your way out the door. To make this project extra nice for myself, I may even pick up a brand new Moleskine sketchbook and some oil pastels!

If any of this resonates with you. No matter when you start or how you choose to show up creatively every day, I would be honored if you would join me for the 100-day journey. If there’s enough interest, I may even create a community group and potentially a virtual check-in after the 100 days are over! Please feel free to comment or DM me on Instagram if you’d like to join, and I’ll roll up my sleeves and make it happen.

Thank you so much for reading, and until next time.

Handle with care,

xo Michelle