Because Creativity - a heart painted in watercolours, with Kiran Zeeshan

exploring imagination, pushing boundaries, and filling every edge with creativity

Dear Creatives,

Welcome to another inspiring edition of Because Creativity. I invite you to pause and immerse yourself in stories of imagination, resilience, and artistic growth, shared by kindred spirits who find joy in creative expression.

Today’s guest letter is from Kiran, an artist and writer whose journey is uniquely shaped by her faith as a Muslim. Her love for creativity began with a humble set of watercolours gifted by her father, sparking a lifelong passion for visual art and words. Raised with a love for painting, Kiran has spent her life experimenting with different mediums and pushing the boundaries of her imagination, filling every spare edge of paper with sketches, doodles, and ideas. Though her career path took her through the corporate world, Kiran never lost sight of her dreams, nurturing them in secret until she found a community that embraced her creative spirit.

Kiran’s beautiful watercolours

For as long as I can remember, the first gift I ever asked my parents for was a set of watercolours. I still recall the day my father bought me a simple round white plastic pan filled with colours. I faced a dilemma—if I sketched first with a pencil, I couldn’t erase it once I painted over it, but if I painted directly, there would be no correcting mistakes. Eventually, I chose to paint a crescent moon and a star, and with that, my creative journey began.

As I grew up, I nurtured two dreams: to bring my imagination to life through painting and to one day be interviewed on national television as an author and scriptwriter. Much like the character Ramon in Peter H. Reynolds’ picture book Ish, I found joy in drawing anywhere and everywhere. I recreated images from calendars, copied ink sketches from newspaper adverts with my first fountain pen, and doodled mini-comics inspired by conversations with friends at work.

Fear never held me back from experimenting with different mediums—oil, acrylic, and watercolour all became part of my artistic repertoire. One of my most cherished pieces was a lifelike apple I coloured using Staedtler Luna pencils, a gift from my father after one of his voyages. But alongside my visual art, I was also writing stories, and scripts, and filling the edges of notebooks and doodles but it was my well-kept secret. And like Michelle Obama, when adults asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say ‘doctor’ or ‘lawyer’. Yet deep down, I always aspired to be an artist and a writer.

However, I detoured my passion for two decades through the corporate world and the continued joys of parenting. It wasn’t that I lacked support, but rather, I wasn’t sure how to pursue my creative passions, and so I stayed on the well-trodden path.

Then, Anne Lamott’s words about the importance of having a partner and community resonated deeply with me. I found immense support in the small village of 1,500 people where I now live. Here, we have artists, galleries, a tiny library—the smallest in the county—and a museum. My prayers were answered when I discovered ‘Grounded Writers’, a group that has given me clarity, confidence, and sisterhood.

I find joy in painting miniature houses, flexing my creativity, and creating handmade cards sold in a local café. My love for artistic expression also extends to embroidery, where I’ve experimented with blending intricate stitches with cherished memories captured in photographs. My daughters often tell me how they notice my face lights up when I paint. There’s something magical about swirling the paintbrush in water and watching the pigments dissolve into the liquid.

Through it all, I’ve learned the value of trusting the process and respecting perseverance. My journey is still unfolding, and I remain a work in progress. I braved to curate my journey on Substack as ‘And There is More to The Story’ and on Instagram as ‘Lighthouse Designs & Stories’.

Kiran’s path unfolded in ways she might not have anticipated as a child, but it brought her into welcoming creative communities, where she discovered the healing power of connection and creativity. The past decade has been transformative for her, a journey of learning, unlearning, and relearning shaped by her relationship with Allah and her understanding of love, migration, and endurance. Through her art and writing, Kiran weaves together her experiences of faith, life, and loss, creating a beautiful framework for self-expression and connection.

In Kiran’s story, there’s a reminder for all of us about the courage it takes to trust our passions, and the beauty of letting those passions evolve with us. She encourages us to embrace the magic of creativity, no matter where we are on our journey. And for Kiran, creativity is not just a personal expression but a bridge to connect with others and find meaning in each moment of artistic play.

Thank you, Kiran, for sharing your journey with us, reminding us of the joy and resilience that creativity can inspire.

If you’d like to explore more of Kiran’s writing and art, you can follow her Substack, And There’s More to the Story, and on Instagram @lighthousedesignsandstories

Watercolour flows through the veins of my family.

For as long as I can remember, my auntie has been painting delicate watercolours, capturing the essence of nature with each brushstroke. When I left home, I spent a short season living with a retired couple in an idyllic country house in Twyford. There, I would while away the hours painting misty landscapes, flowers, and the occasional black cat, finding my own rhythm in the gentle flow of water and pigment. My mum, too, has dabbled in watercolours, producing beautiful pieces of Leeds Castle, country cottages, and still lifes. Together, we have shared a love for capturing the world through this timeless, flowing art form.

Ecosystem - painted by my auntie, Anne Maddox

A country cottage, painted by Mum

One of my own watercolours, painted more than half a lifetime ago

There's something special about watercolour, the way it moves unpredictably, blending and bleeding into soft gradients, often mimicking the gentle fluidity of nature itself. For me, it's been a way to connect not only with my own creativity but also with loved ones who share this passion. Whether you've experienced the joy of holding a brush and letting colours flow across the paper or simply admire the subtle beauty of watercolour paintings, I'd love to hear about your connection to this art form. How has watercolour touched your life, either through your own creations or the work of artists you admire?

I hope that Kiran’s story inspires you to embrace your own creative joys, whatever they may be. Because, in the end, creativity is a gift, one that lifts us up and fills our lives with beauty and meaning.

Bye for now,