David is candid about the one form of creativity he still avoids: drawing.
When he was about ten years old, a discouraging art teacher left a mark that never fully
faded. He hasn't picked up a pencil to draw since, and he'll admit, without much hesitation,
that it's still something close to a fear rather than a simple preference.
What's stayed with him instead is the belief that creativity found a way around the fear
rather than through it. Shut out of drawing, he built a career out of every other form of
expression he could reach: writing, theatre, film, festivals, and eventually brand strategy.
He's said more than once that he knows he should go back and finally learn to draw and paint,
the way he tells audiences to lean into the parts of creativity that feel unsafe. He just
hasn't done it yet.
It's a small story, but it's the honest version of his larger argument: that creativity
rarely survives criticism delivered the wrong way at the wrong age, and that the work of
building a creative practice as an adult is often the work of rebuilding a safe space that
was taken away early.