Discovering Joy Through The Process Of Creating

When artists talk about the importance of creativity, they often speak about freedom, expression, or the satisfaction of bringing an idea to life. 

But for Coromandel painter Paul Cornwell and Hamilton-based multidisciplinary artist Rai Ringer, creativity is far more than a skill or hobby. It is a community builder, a valuable source of personal grounding, and provides a sense of purpose that becomes essential to wellbeing.

Coromandel-based painter and illustrator Paul Cornwell spent more than three decades navigating the world of commercial design before deciding that he needed to find space for his own creative practice.

“I had this weird, slightly amalgamated world of my graphic design and illustration job,” he explains, reflecting on a career that stretched from agency life in Auckland and Tauranga to running his own business. “And I thought, I’m going to die wondering if I don’t find a way to paint more.”

Paul’s creative resurgence started with a simple daily commitment. In 2018, while travelling in the South Island, he decided: “I’m going to draw something every day in my sketchbook… similar to if I was a sports person, you’ve got to go for a run. You’ve got to get your fitness.”

That routine became a turning point. Drawing sharpened his observation, strengthened his confidence, and eventually ignited a return to painting, an endeavour that had been pushed aside due to work, family, and the inevitability of time pressure.

Moving to the Coromandel seven years ago gave him a new beginning. Now working from a public-facing studio, he creates in full view of curious visitors. It’s not always easy, but for Paul, the openness is part of the meaning. He describes the space as a place where people wander in almost instinctively. “There must be some sort of drawcard, even if it’s subconsciously, to having people come in and just engage.”

That engagement has become an essential part of how Paul sees art’s role in the community. Creative spaces, he believes, shape the identity of towns as much as any physical landmark.

“If these types of places weren’t here,” he says, “it probably wouldn’t feel quite like the town it’s supposed to be.”

Paul’s story is filled with moments that reflect the emotional weight of artistic vulnerability, like a painting he once nearly destroyed. He recalls wiping the work clean in frustration, only to learn later that another artist had seen value in the “mistake.” That moment reminded him that community sheds light on blind spots that isolation obscures. “If I was on my own, I would have given up,” he admits.

In the end, creativity, for Paul, is intertwined with authenticity. “You just do what’s deeply intrinsic and genuine to you,” he says. “If that one percent of the population wants to come and engage with it… then that’s really cool.”

Rai Ringer’s journey of creativity is one of discovery after years of being held back by uncertainty. Born in Salvador, Brazil, a city she describes as “possibly the cultural centre of Brazil,” Rai grew up surrounded by rhythm and colour. “From a very young age, I was into dancing,” she says. “Music was always just the background of everything.”

But at 18, feeling stuck and searching for something bigger, she left Brazil for India despite not speaking a word of English. It was an act of self-determination. She spent two years immersed in classical dance, music, and cultural tradition, an experience she describes as “eye-opening.”

After moving to New Zealand, Rai spent years working in hospitality, somewhat disconnected from the creative world she loved. Everything shifted when she received an ADHD diagnosis. “People started telling me, ‘Why are you suddenly so creative?’” she recalls. “I’m like, ‘No, I’ve always been creative, it’s just that now I’m not frozen by fear.’”

With new clarity, Rai enrolled in a sewing night class at Fraser High School, a decision that sparked a flourishing creative practice. Her teacher became a key influence, embracing every wild idea Rai brought into the room. “Not once did my teacher say, ‘That’s a bit difficult.’ She always goes, ‘Okay, let’s figure it out.’” That permission to experiment, such as turning baby quilts into jackets or thrifted fabrics into wearable art, ignited a creative fire.

But sewing is only one dimension. Under the musical alias Hi-vibe, Rai has become an active contributor to New Zealand’s music community. Events like Kiwiburn, New Zealand’s regional Burning Man, where everything is gifted and creativity fuels the entire experience, has shaped her understanding of authentic self-expression.

She says these communities have taught her “to be authentic and to be myself,” reinforcing art as a way of belonging rather than performing.

While Paul and Rai’s individual journeys have taken different paths to their current positions, their experiences reveal striking connections. Both discovered that creativity becomes most meaningful when shared.

Paul sees examples of it in the people who stop by his studio: “They may not be overly creative themselves, but they like creativity in their life and there’s a genuine appreciation of what everybody does.”

Rai shares an example from her night class, where encouragement, curiosity, and acceptance create a safe space for ideas that defy logic or convention.

Both artists know intimately that creativity strengthens wellbeing, not necessarily because it produces masterpieces, but because it encourages connection to self, to others, and to a larger sense of purpose.