The Art of Originality: Painting What Words Cannot Say

Some gifts come wrapped in paper and ribbon. Others are shaped by time, presence, and intention. They carry the imprint of the giver, something that cannot be bought or duplicated. These are the gifts that live on, because they are born from originality.

Recently, I had the joy of creating one of those gifts for my friend and colleague Zack’s birthday. Instead of searching for something to purchase, I decided to create a watercolor painting inspired by him. Zack is a fan of Blanton’s bourbon, and his favorite drink is an Old Fashioned. That small detail became the soul of the piece. I imagined a bottle of Blanton’s paired with a perfectly crafted cocktail, two symbols of ritual and refinement captured in watercolor.

As I painted, I realized I was doing more than layering color onto paper. I was giving a voice to something words could not fully express. Gratitude. Friendship. Thoughtfulness. Each brushstroke carried intention. Each wash of color became a quiet message: I see you. I value you. This is yours alone.

In a world of quick convenience, originality has become rare. Almost anything can be ordered in an instant, but nothing compares to the weight of something created by hand. To make something original is to resist the ordinary. It is to choose depth over speed, meaning over transaction.

For me, art has always been more than a creative outlet. It is a language of connection. Through painting, I can say the things that sometimes feel too layered for words. That is the art of originality: it speaks on our behalf. It becomes a bridge between intention and experience.

This lesson extends far beyond art. At The GB, originality is also how I approach business and strategy. To me, originality means designing solutions that fit people, not just processes. It means building relationships that are personal, not transactional. It means choosing intention, whether in a brushstroke or a business decision.

When I look back at this painting, I see more than a bottle and a glass. I see originality in its purest form. I see the reminder that our most meaningful contributions are the ones that cannot be mass-produced. They are created with presence, guided by care, and remembered because they carry something words cannot.

✨ What is the most original gift you have ever given or received?