Today took an intriguing turn as I found myself in the captivating presence of Leisa, a masterful glassblower and artist. It's almost as if I unintentionally diverted her attention from my business partner, who is now caught up in quite a bit of annoyance. My partner called me, irate, insisting that Leisa should have met with her, not me. In my defense, I was unaware of this arrangement, as our secretary requested my involvement due to the partner's absence. Regrettable as it may be, the die was cast.
Nonetheless, conversing with Leisa was an absolute delight, to say the very least.
There's an indescribable allure about creative souls like hers. They don't judge my accent; instead, they're as inquisitive as children. I
find solace in the pure innocence of their curiosity, exploring the depths of my foreign origins.
It's amusing how exotic I appear to them, despite our kind being scattered across the globe. Leisa, with her hands accustomed to labor and
an aristocratically slender countenance, possessed a deep, intelligent spark in her eyes—an enigmatic talent that defies words but beckons
to be discovered.
Yet, a paradox surrounds her. She poses seemingly naive questions about finance, akin to a child's innocence, but I sense her struggle lies
not in grasping the concept but in navigating the intentionally imposed complexity. She's fallen victim to pragmatists who convinced her
that finance is a foreign realm, beyond her reach. What they never disclosed is that they deliberately employ convoluted jargon to maintain
their gatekeeper status. They consider her a threat, for they fear that once creative minds comprehend finance, they'll multiply wealth at
an astonishing pace.
I cherish the prospect of gifting her the ability to handle money with ease. It's a journey we embark upon together, a challenge I eagerly
embrace.
She passed an unspoken test; she laughed at my coarse humor. I make no claims to being proud of my awkward jokes; they serve as my litmus
test. Only those with a light-hearted disposition can truly connect with me. In return, I'm prepared to invest my time and knowledge in
them.
Creative souls are akin to a potent virus. If they grasp the intricacies of financial wisdom, they'll put pragmatists to shame. Shall we
engage in this game? Are we ready to unleash the beast?
Written by Nadia Hughes.
The essence of growing a business isn't solely about reducing costs. It's about discerning which expenses actually foster revenue growth. Take, for instance, a small startup I billed $1,800 for tax preparation and financial statements. With a few strategic tweaks, they secured a $12,000 refund, all within the bounds of legality. Without these adjustments, they would have faced a $1,666 liability. It is a very trivialised example.
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The glass brings back memories of hope during my turbulent times when I was utterly desperate. In December 2018, I was in very bad shape: a double divorcee, separated from the father of my children and from my business partner—a dare you to beat my title. The correct words to describe my state were dishevelled, depressed, and defeated, still recovering from my car accident, where I shattered my sternum.
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I prefer to work with motivated and hungly for change, goal-oriented business owners, but every now and then, I find myself succumbing to
the charms of an odd artist. Am I mad? Why would I willingly embrace the whimsy of such creative souls?
Picture this: an accountant's life, normally mired in the mundane, is suddenly interrupted by the arrival of an artist, their imagination
awash with vivid hues of peculiarity. It's like stepping into a Salvador Dalí painting, where reality and dreams entwine in a mesmerizing
dance.