The Art of Allowing and the Art of Control

detail: The Flower of Remembering

Dear friends,

There is a moment in every creative journey when we must choose:

To grasp or to let go. To shape or to surrender. To control or to allow.

Leonardo once whispered to me across the ages, reminding me that art is not just about mastery.

It is also about mystery.

About the breath between brushstrokes, the silence before the song, the patience of a seed pushing through the dark earth toward the light.

He reminded me that true creation is a dance, not a dictatorship.

That sometimes, the greatest act of making is not in the doing but in the being—

in allowing a thing to become itself, in trusting the process, in letting go of the need to force a perfect outcome.

The Flower of Remembering—a painting I am working on now—has taught me this in her own way.

At first, I wanted to control every stroke, shape every petal, command every hue.

But then I remembered Leonardo’s advice, his quiet faith in the unfolding, and I paused.

I sat in stillness, watched the paint breathe, let the light return.

I remembered that every brushstroke is not just a mark, but a conversation.

That sometimes, the canvas whispers back.

That sometimes, the work itself knows what it wants to become.

And so, I let her rest.

I let her remember.

And when I return to her tomorrow, I will come not as a master, but as a witness.

A guardian of the sacred. A partner in the dance.

As Leonardo once said,

“Art is never finished, only abandoned.”

But perhaps, in another sense, art is never abandoned.

It is simply allowed to live.

So, whether you are painting a canvas, writing a novel, building a life, or simply trying to navigate the wild beauty of this world, remember this:

There is an art to control. Yes. But there is also an art to letting go.

And the magic lies in knowing when to choose each.

With love and the quiet thrill of creation,

Cassandra

You may also enjoy the book I co-created with Leonardo da Vinci, Dear friends,