“I love struggling, actually. It makes me feel alive.” — Alysa Liu.

You probably don’t need to follow the 2026 Winter Olympics closely to have heard about Alysa Liu, her mesmerising figure skating choreography, and her inspiring speeches.

If you’re a human, you’re probably no stranger to struggles.

The 4 walls of my home studio must have witnessed countless of my groans I made when I couldn’t find the right shading for my painting, make a book spread’s layout work, or when I needed to communicate with my clients that “It is very important to have white space in a design”. Struggles are always there, lurking in every corner.

There’s unfortunately no vaccine we can get to make us immune to struggles, but there are perhaps some points of view — some “supplements” — we can take to make these experiences more copeable.

1. Struggling shows that you care

According to the Cambridge dictionary, to struggle is “to experience difficulty and make a very great effort in order to do something”

Struggling, i.e., putting in efforts, shows that you care about the subject matter, about that goal, even if the goalpost keeps moving.

If we didn’t care, we wouldn’t have felt the struggles in the first place.

When we care, we become more mindful and considerate of what we do, and feel more connected with the craft, the subject. That gives your products/end goals value and depth!

There was one childhood phase when I had a recurring dream about a shadowy yet gentle father figure who took me deep into the woods and kept me safe at night. I wanted so badly to turn this story into a painting, and had made multiple attempts to illustrate it, but nothing turned out very well. It was a struggle.

Years later, in early 2025, I decided to try drawing it again. I wouldn’t call it a masterpiece, but I really like what I was able to put together during this attempt, and it turned all the prior attempts I made into worthwhile “experiments”.

2. Happiness is in trying — Putting in efforts makes achieving the end-goal more meaningful

While nowadays, generative AI is being unnecessarily overused in the creative field, there is certainly a demand for more genuine and raw products, which are man-made and require more technical skills.

• Simon, the mixed-media artist behind Everything Makes Noise, has been producing many mesmerising videos out of paper collages and hand-drawn strokes.

• Célin Do, the painter and filmmaker behind the Crazy Broke Asian project, was accused of using AI for their Ghibli-style animation, while in fact everything was hand-painted frame-by-frame using the Nicker Poster Colour (which actually is the colour Ghibli Studio uses!)

• Also, not a very recent project, but did you know the famous children's show Shaun the Sheep was created purely from clay stop motion? HOW AWESOME!

• Many artists and creators who are used to digital tools have also decided to go back to analog and create things in the traditional way.

Despite the time-consuming process, these products came out as unique and human, demonstrating the skills that took years or even decades to hone. (Not to mention their quality is superb, above anything non-human could ever do).

3. Struggles challenge you to become better versions of yourself

We humans are blessed with evolved brains that can process complex information, stimulate future scenarios, learn, and problem solve (totally not throwing shades to the pro-AIs who won’t pick up a pencil and learn to draw) — you gotta trust this amazing learning capability of your brain.

Through struggles, through the process of trying, failing, and trying again, you’re pushed to think of new solutions and gain more experiences. Even when those experiences aren’t what you aimed for, you learn something from them.

If you’re not struggling, how do you know if you’re learning?

You probably heard this saying a million times already.

We can move on to the next point.

4. Struggles encourage you to trust the process

Sometimes, what matters isn’t the end goal, but the hours/months/years of effort, of “falling seven and standing up eight”.

Growth is a long process that can take hours, weeks, or even years — we know that one day, when we look back, all the struggles we faced in the process were worthwhile.

There‘s this trend called “One day or Day one” circling around social media a couple of years ago.

While the original meaning of the phrase is to push people out of the procrastination “I’ll do that one day” stage, netizens have been treating it as a way to showcase their “Day one” of trying their craft vs their current successful “One day” stage — honestly, the biggest flex ever. These posts never fail to make me admire the hard work that happened behind the scenes for the person to reach the “One day” state — Here’s a nice example of the market set-up evolution from the woman-owned candle business, On & Slow.

Epilogue

When I try to categorize the benefits of struggling into the 4 points above, I’ve never felt more human, or like Alysa Liu said, alive, for having ever felt the struggles.

Struggles can be beautiful — they slow us down when we’re rushing, give us valuable knowledge, and teach us that all good things will take time, making us feel more connected with our journey and destination.

Since this newsletter mainly focuses on creative practices and my thoughts around them, most of the struggles I mentioned above are more of process-struggles. However, to wrap up this post and also to allow other life struggles to feel more included, there’s this quote I stumbled upon while researching for this topic that I just couldn’t fit elsewhere.

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My father passed away at the end of June this year. The past few weeks have been heavy — not just emotionally and physically, but creatively.

Family matters have always been difficult for me to navigate, and in a way, it took just as much creativity to get through conversations as it did to make art.

While spending time in my hometown — unemployed and looking for ways to reconnect with/heal my younger self — I decided to pick up the Kuretake Gansai Tambi 12-colour watercolour set.

My background is mostly digital. I studied Graphic Design, not Fine Arts, and most of my illustration work since 2019 has been on my iPad Pro. The process of working with colours I could touch, on a blank page I couldn’t “undo,” taught me a lot about myself, my emotions, and my creative process. Here’s what I learned.

1. Letting go of control is freedom

I discovered that I’m a control freak when it comes to art. I love digital art because the process makes it so easy to undo and redo. I don’t have to be afraid of permanently “ruining” an artboard or losing a sketch version that I liked. Managing layers makes it so much easier to finalize a piece.

But with watercolour, I was stripped of that sense of control. For a while, it was really scary, and everything I made felt terrible because I couldn’t control the outcome. Balancing different amounts of water, different amounts of pigment, and timing became a juggling act I couldn’t seem to win.

But then I thought — why do I need to “win” at all?

No two brushstrokes were ever the same, which made each one feel special. The patterns of colour pigments interacting with water were so unique that I started to fall in love more with the process itself — almost like I was painting just to see how the blots and streaks would vary, not because I wanted a perfect end result.

I let go of the idea that only “expected” things are acceptable, and started embracing unpredictability.

That’s when I started to draw more loosely. I stopped pressuring myself to achieve a certain outcome and just enjoyed the process. No matter what the results looked like, I knew I had fun. That, my friend, is freedom. If you truly let uncertainties guide you, the results can be surprisingly satisfying.

2. Achieving your goals might not feel magical, but it still matters

This watercolour set was something I dreamed of owning in high school, but couldn’t afford. Ten years later, I finally bought it.

You might expect this to be the part where I say, “Oh, I can’t believe my childhood dream has finally come true!” But the truth is, once I started using it, it felt just like working with any other art material. Sure, there were things I liked about it — and issues I ran into — because with any medium, there are pros and cons. The set didn’t magically turn me into the skilled artist my younger self imagined.

At first, I questioned whether I’d grown at all. But I realized that while my watercolour skills may be basic, I’ve gained transferable skills — like observation, balancing light and dark, and working with my signature warm tones.

I can’t blame myself for not having grown more as an artist while I spent years earning a living with graphic design. But here I am today, able to afford this set (which actually isn’t that expensive with “adult money”) and taking steps to get to know a new medium—those are privileges I earned through years of practice and hard work. I’m already far ahead of where I was before when I first knew about this colour set. The moment I held this set wasn’t like the magical scene I envisioned back in high school, but if I wasn’t ready, I wouldn’t be here holding it now.

Trust that you’re where you’re supposed to be, and know that your younger selves would still be proud — even if that pride looks different from what they imagined.

3. Comparison is the killer of joy

Most of us have heard this before: don’t compare yourself to others. However, the comparison I want to discuss here is between something you’ve done for years and something you've just started learning yesterday.

When I first worked with watercolour, I judged everything I made by comparing it to my digital work. Why aren’t the lines as crisp? Why did I mess up the background layers? Why didn’t I plan ahead? Why can’t the colours stay separated?

It wasn’t fair. Comparing a skill you’ve honed for years to one you just started (not to mention one medium to another) is like comparing sugar to salt. If I had spent years with watercolour and just tried digital, I’d face the same frustrations — just in reverse.

4. Creativity needs momentum

I used to think creative flow was permanent — once built, it stayed forever. But after pausing my art practice to tend to family matters, I struggled to start again, even with my usual routine.

It took days of taking baby steps, making small sketches frequently, and drawing loosely, to finally feel it again. That’s building momentum!

You can’t force creativity. You can’t just wake up one day and create a masterpiece without any warm-up. It’s scary to think that your familiar process can one day feel foreign, but trust that if you keep moving, you’ll find your steady rhythm again.

Bonus: Failing is part of learning

This wasn’t a new realization for me, but I believe it’s still nice to have it as a nice reminder here.

Inevitably, working with a medium you’re not familiar with leads to some… unsatisfying results. With very little understanding or skill in handling the medium, putting colours on the page — knowing there’s no way to erase them — felt raw. At one point, I questioned my decision to try a new medium at all, because I don’t like the feeling of making crappy work.

It reminded me of my in-car driving lessons, when I could barely steer in the right direction and almost hit a tree (lol). I cried so much that night, not because I was “bad” at driving, but because I hated the feeling of not being good at something right away.

Is it delusional to think I can be good at anything on the first try? Yeahhhhh.

But we must all admit that being bad at something is a crucial step in learning. And learning is never a bad thing.

Failing can be fun. Failing can be eye-opening.

Failing teaches you more than winning — and there’s beauty in failing, then trying again in a different way.

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Now, you might notice I didn’t talk much about the technical side of watercolour. That’s because my own experience with the medium is still fresh, and I’d rather not give advice that hasn’t been shaped by years of experimenting.

Every artist approaches traditional media differently. For me, I try not to overthink what I’m drawing. I just fill the page with whatever pops into my head (mostly cats!), keeping it light and fun so I’ll want to come back, without the pressure of making “masterpieces.” Life’s been busy, but my sketchbook has quietly become a safe space I can turn to whenever I want a break from screens.

If you’ve been thinking about shaking up your creative practice, whether that means trying a new medium or simply drawing more often, I hope this little blog post gives you a gentle nudge to go for it.

Because at the end of the day, the best part of any creative journey is that it’s yours. <3

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I’m writing this newsletter while sitting on a camping chair in my landlord’s yard, surrounded by the sound of leaves dancing with the wind, birds chirping, and the smell of damp soil before the rain. Some neighbour kid is blowing soap bubbles, making it even more worthwhile to be out here. For a while, life is good.

It’s been quite a few stimulating weeks here in the Stoodio, and I can feel my body desperately yearns for an unplugged day — a “leave me alone” day.

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The signs

1. I dreaded checking my emails in the morning, and when the emails did come, I found myself easily agitated by the smallest inconvenience. Turning off the Mail app after a long day has been the best feeling ever, until the next day when I had to open it again.

2. I haven’t drawn anything for fun in weeks, nor did I feel like I wanted to. If I did draw, it was either for a brand deal, for content, for Vicky Stoodio’s new products, for an art challenge, or a client project. These items can be super exciting, don’t get me wrong, but things are starting to feel a bit like a chore — that’s not great.

3. I constantly felt overwhelmed and allowed project hours to eat into my personal time, making the lines between life and work more and more blurry. I couldn’t even remember when was the last time I allowed myself to sit back and watch a favourite movie, not having to think about the next thing I had on my task list.

4. The days have been getting longer here, and while everyone’s out to celebrate the sun, I find myself low on energy, buried in the coziness of my dark bedroom late into the morning, away from the sunlight. It’s too overexposing out there, and I wasn’t ready to feel so bare under the sun. (Yet here I am now in the garden — we’ll get there in a bit)

5. Ideas still come to me, but they’re starting to feel very repetitive and uninteresting.

6. When it’s time to finally tend to my relationships, I feel guilty for having this sadness, knowing that I’ll once again have to relocate my me-time into another time slot in the future.

I’ve been there before — I know it’s a sign of getting burnt out.

The importance of having a “Leave me alone” day

“Leaving me alone” day is just an emo name I give to a day full of me-time. It’s the day that I can spend reconnecting with my feelings, jotting down my thoughts, and trying out something that I’ve always wanted to try. I turned off my Mail app, put my phone somewhere far away from my reach, and took myself away from the area of the house where I usually work (since I work from home).

Running a small art business is fun and very stimulating, but constantly being in the “always-on mode” can lead one to burn out pretty quickly. I don’t want to be in a position where I stretch myself too thin to the point that I can’t rebound to the same energy when I begin.

Yes, making new art is exciting, but not to the point that we have to sacrifice all the fun outside of it. There are other things that we artists can enjoy outside of our art practice — I love nature, hiking; I love making things for my loved ones, things that aren’t necessarily sellable, but make me happy because the process helps me feel more grounded.

Allotting time for your well-being isn’t wasting time. It’s actually a good investment of time. When your body finally tells you it needs a break, it is probably when it’s a bit late, and your body and soul will take even more time to recover.

With a busy schedule and life responsibilities, most “Leave me alone” days might look more like a half-day, or even a few hours in a day. The important part is to actively choose yourself, and your need to unplug — the world can wait.

So what do I actually do on this kind of day?

Here, I have a checklist, but everyone is different, so take it with a grain of salt.

• Have a good meal — make it “fancy” by trying a new sauce, or being extra on the decor. Doesn’t take that much time, and makes me happy — into the list.

• Put on a favourite perfume or scent candle — studies have shown that there’s a link between scents and memory, so by putting on a calming, special smell, you prep your brain to get into a state of mind. When you smell this smell in the future, your brain knows “Ahhh, me-time, time to relax!” (Also works if you want to get into work mode and put on a different scent — just don’t mix me-time scent and work-time scent haha)

• Choose a highlight activity — could be journaling, writing, making something for a loved one, baking, drawing traditionally. Honestly, anything that’s not work. (Don’t cheat, personal project is also a type of work)

• Make sure all notifications are off — some jobs don’t allow this (and I fully respect that), but good thing that in the creative world, nothing is THAT urgent.

• Location — avoid the area where you usually work. The bedroom is fine, but I prefer somewhere with nature sounds. If real nature sound isn’t accessible, try ambient sounds apps (but beware of distraction from tech devices).

Why nature sound?

Many scientific studies suggest that nature sounds, such as birds tweeting or water sounds, can facilitate healing in various parts of our brain. They can also boost our focus, relieve stress, and boost our mood.

Sorry, emotional songs, you all can wait, I gotta destress first!

Here’s a pic of the windchimes I made to bring to a recent market. The process of painting, sculpting, and assembling the parts made me feel connected to the products. Wind chimes are also my way to connect more with nature, because without wind, you won’t be able to hear their chimes.

Other things I tried that work

Let’s be honest — not everyone has the time to unplug all day. With so little time for yourself, perhaps there are other beneficial things you can introduce into your existing routine.

1. Spend more time reading (preferably physical books)

Reading opens our minds. Find a subject that piques your curiosity, and read about it.

While I don’t read a lot of text-heavy books, I love going to the library once in a while and indulging myself in books that have images. These could be children's books or non-fiction books that have lots of photos (gardening, birding, etc.). The reason why I personally don’t opt for ebooks is that physical books are easier on the eye, and you have less access to distractions. Flipping through physical books also feels more intuitive compared to toggling through pages on a Kindle. (But if ebooks are more accessible to you, then by all means!)

2. Consume mindfully

Just like food, you can’t keep generating without consuming. You are what you eat, and the same goes for creativity. Strategically consuming the right kind of resources helps you develop unique points of view — This can be through reading, experimenting with new things (which I didn’t dedicate enough time to do), and talking to new people.

Another reason why I love books specifically for the ideation process is that they feel less mainstream compared to online resources. The process of compiling resources for a book could take much longer time, while most of the online materials tend to follow specific trends/looks, and can easily feel like you’ve seen a similar piece before.

3. Communicate your boundaries and enforce them

Every time someone in the creative field asked me for advice to survive in this field, the #1 answer I always gave was to take care of your mental health and draw clear boundaries. In the creative world, most projects are deadline-oriented. No matter how good at time management you are, some clients’ demanding deadlines and expectations can drive us creatives insane.

That’s when boundaries can come in handy! Gently remind people around you about your boundaries when you feel like they’ve been crossed. If we can’t even respect our own boundaries, how can we expect others to follow?

Need a small reminder for yourself? I got you!

4. Play around with your phone’s notification system

I use an iPhone, but I positively believe that any smartphone has a similar system. There are multiple focus modes on my phone, allowing me to selectively choose what apps to get notifications from during specific times in a day.

For example, email notifications will only be on from 9 AM to 5 PM, as a way for me to set a boundary regarding how much time I should pay attention to work-related emails. It’s not that people expect you to get back to their emails right away; it’s just that because you see it, you think you’re expected to be responsive.

My partner got really upset when work people messaged/emailed him during off hours, and after I tried to persuade him to just turn off the notifications for a long, long time, he finally agreed — I think he’s been a bit happier since haha.

5. Limit your screen time

When your whole brand existence relies heavily on social media like mine, it’s reaaaally hard not to check the phone frequently. When I opened the screen time report on my phone, I gasped to know that I spent more than 4 hours a day on Instagram alone.

To be frank, no one on social’s gonna be mad if I get back to their message half a day later. The pressure of having to interact/reply immediately is something I put on myself and can’t seem to get rid of. I decided to put a time limit on the app, and I haven’t looked back since.

Closing

Working closely with humans makes us feel like we always have to engage, interact, and generate. Even a machine needs resources (gas, fuel, electricity, etc.) and cool-down time to keep working in great condition, so why do we think our body and mind have to work even harder than the machines?

Now, there’s a part of me that wonders, does this need to fully shut down once in a while of mine come from the fact that I’m an introvert, or do extroverts need this, too?

I would love to hear what everyone thinks!

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The latest trend I hopped on was the “I met my younger self for coffee today”, and it was oddly therapeutic to finally face the kind of person I was and reflect on the one I’ve become. It was personal, yet many people could relate to it. I also very much enjoyed reading other people’s takes on this — It was like having someone let you in on a secret, so raw, so vulnerable.

So here’s another self-central trend that’s been lingering in the back of my mind.

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As a 25-year-old artist, I’m not ashamed to admit that…

1. I still, very much, envy artists who had smoother starts and resources to begin the journey early.

I came to Canada in 2017, starting a new life chapter with a Culinary program. After my first semester, despite my love for baking at home, cooking in a professional kitchen space stressed me out so much that I found my mind went to very dark places. That was when I made the switch to Graphic Design and ended up graduating with a 3-year Design Diploma. The goal at that time was to find a stable job to secure my status in Canada; anything else could come later.

After years of working really hard, I got my Canadian Permanent Resident status in 2023, which was also went I decided to start pursuing something more than just work — my art business.

I don’t consider my art journey a “late” start since I know there are people who picked up art a lot later in their lives, but it was still not as early as I would have wanted. Many of my artist friends have families in Canada, or they came to Canada at a very young age. They don’t need to worry about rent, immigration status, and many many annoying pieces of paperwork I had to deal with during school because I was an international student. Oh, y’all, I envy you so much!

But I know everyone has to deal with different kinds of challenges. It’s not fair at all to compare. Everything happens for a reason — the things I’d been through, despite seeming like roadblocks, were stepping stones for me to get to where I am today.

2. I can’t afford to do art full-time yet

A large portion of my income still comes from graphic design. Juggling multiple types of projects can be stressful sometimes because switching gears from one setup to another is time-consuming. It is still my dream to one day switch my illustration gigs into a full-time thing, but until then, I’ll cherish the opportunity to have a diverse opportunity to branch out, meet different kinds of people, and grow in my unique way.

I think another great thing about not doing art full-time is that I can have a lot more fun and freedom in how I want to operate my art business. I don’t have to try to crank out more sellable products (that I personally can’t relate to) just because they’ll make me more money. I also have more peace of mind when I need to turn on vacation mode on my Etsy shop while I’m away, which is really nice.

3. I have no idea where I’m heading next, and that’s okay!

I have a problem — I want to do everything. Probably an ego issue, probably I just want to prove to the world that I’m capable of doing so many things. If you tell me that I have to focus on one thing and just do it for one full year or an X period of time, I’ll curl into a ball and cry because I can’t choose.

I have too many things on my list, and they belong to so many different categories — crochet, sewing, clay, wearable accessories, mixed-media projects, etc. Soon, I knew an inevitable decision I’d need to make would be between whether I want to do all, satisfy all my creative cravings but have a slow growth OR pick and choose just a few things, be really good at them, and grow faster (in these specific areas).

For now, I just want to fully embrace “freedom” — something I fought very hard to achieve. I’m not ready to give it up yet! I still want to do what my heart wants, not something that would please the algorithm while my creative health is deteriorating out of boredom. I still want to do things that excite me every morning and give me a reason to get out of bed. And that’s many, many things, not just one.

So, for now, don’t make me choose! I’ll clean the house, I’ll organize my table, I’ll tend to my garden — anything to procrastinate deciding this point.

This mindset might change in the future, and I’ll be spreading my arms welcoming that change. But before I wrap up this post, let me leave you with a saying that I really like…

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Below are the 6 decisions that I thought were the best decisions I’ve made for my art business, as well as for myself personally, so far :)

1. Outsourcing My Products Instead of Producing Everything In-House

• I chose to have most of my initial products — stickers, art prints, greeting cards, etc. — professionally printed by manufacturers instead of making them at home.

• Having high-quality products mattered more to me than producing everything myself, and outsourcing helped reduce the risk of having too many B-grade items.

• Since I live alone in Canada, without family, and don’t own a house, I have limited space. Plus, the possibility of moving in the future meant I couldn’t invest in bulky or heavy machines. Outsourcing gave me peace of mind.

• As a casual DIY-er, I totally get the appeal of making everything in-house. However, as someone who had a demanding full-time job and personal commitments, outsourcing was the more sustainable option for me.

• Of course, outsourcing comes with trade-offs:

  • Higher MOQ (minimum order quantity) → risk of overstocking designs that don’t sell well.

  • Higher unit costs → because printers have overhead expenses too!

  • Longer production time → so I have to plan ahead and order early for launches and markets.

2. Quality Over Quantity

• Many people swear by “done is better than perfect,” but as someone also with years of experience in the graphic design field, I live by “perfect is better than done.” (wanna hear about the amount of misprints or printing errors I’ve been through??)

• Aiming for perfection (within reason, because perfection is pretty objective) saves time and money — whether it’s avoiding costly reprints or figuring out how to fix the low-quality prints later.

• In my case, this means:

  • Choosing a more reliable manufacturer (even if they charge more).

  • Using higher-quality materials → inevitably more expensive, but customers feel their money was well spent.

  • Taking the time to finish a design properly rather than rushing to meet a deadline or space requirement. I’ve made the mistake of rushing products just to meet a quota, only to hate them later — and unsurprisingly, they didn’t sell well either. A waste of both time and money! *inserts sobbing emoji here*

3. Moving to a Larger Space

• I touched on this in #1, but when I started out, I was sharing a house with friends. My tiny room barely fit a bed, bookshelf, closet, and chair — I had almost no workspace other than the space my computer set up already took.

• Since I didn’t live with family, I had to respect shared spaces, meaning I kept all my creative work inside my already-cramped room (though luckily, my roommates let me use the garden too, but that doesn’t count haha).

• Eventually, I felt physically and creatively restricted, and at the right place and time, I made the decision to move into a bigger space.

• It wasn’t easy — the move was costly, and rent shot up compared to sharing a house. But it gave me room to grow, both creatively and mentally, leading to opportunities I wouldn’t have had before.

• Side note: I’ve seen bigger artists rent out dedicated studios separate from their living spaces, and while I can’t afford that yet, it’s a goal I hope to achieve one day!

4. Prioritizing Community Over Individual Success

• I’ll be ultra-mega honest — while Vicky Stoodio is a one-person game, most of the silver linings happened thanks to the amazing artist and maker community.

• When I had a horrible experience with my first consignment store, it was the community that stood together, spoke up, and got us the closure we deserved. (We still talk about that nightmare to this day!)

• When my first market flopped because I barely made any sales, it was friends in the community who introduced me to better events where my work was more appreciated.

• We warn each other about shady businesses trying to exploit artists, share advice, and lift each other up instead of stepping on one another to succeed. I’ve saved so many tears and unnecessary sweat because of this.

• Like that famous African proverb says: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” The strength in numbers is real!

5. Asking for Help

• Entrepreneurship is lonely. You do everything yourself because hiring help isn’t always affordable. And because we value our own time and effort so much, we’re often afraid to ask for help, thinking we’ll burden others.

• But I realized that’s not sustainable. We don’t know everything, and we’re not good at everything, so there’s no shame in seeking support.

• Whether it’s asking for business advice, technical help, or simply having someone to vent to, leaning on others is not a weakness — it’s a necessity.

• And just as I’ve received help, I also love giving back when others need support. Because we’re all in this together. 💛

These are just a few of the best decisions I’ve made for my art business so far. Every creative journey is different, but I hope this post gives you some insight into how I make my decisions—and maybe even a bit of inspiration for your own journey too!

If you’d like me to expand a bit more on anything mentioned above, or if you have other ideas you want to share, feel free to leave a comment below — I’d loooove to hear them :D