Why I Start My Day Listening to Jimi Hendrix (And How Voodoo Child Blows Up My Design Block)

There’s a line in Voodoo Child that gets me every time: “Well, I stand up next to a mountain, and I chop it down with the edge of my hand.” It’s pure defiance, power, and confidence. That’s what I need when I’m staring down a design block—something that makes me feel like I can take the mountain of indecision, self-doubt, and blank space and just chop it down.

The energy in that lyric says it all. It’s not about being gentle or perfect; it’s about taking control. Sometimes design is like that. You can’t finesse your way out of a block—you have to blow through it. And Hendrix, with that blistering guitar and those fearless lyrics, reminds me that it’s okay to make a mess before it becomes something beautiful.

“I didn’t mean to take up all your sweet time, I’ll give it right back one of these days.” That’s the line that hits next, and it speaks to the push and pull of the creative process. Sometimes, your ideas aren’t ready when you want them to be. Sometimes, you have to fight them, let them run late, and trust that they’ll come back to you stronger. Hendrix wasn’t in a rush, and neither am I. There’s a flow to creativity that can’t be forced.

By the time I’m halfway through the song, the tension that’s been holding me back starts to crumble. The chords, the lyrics, the way Hendrix commands the song—it’s like a reminder to own the process. To know that the block isn’t permanent, and that every line I design is another chop at the mountain.

Voodoo Child doesn’t just shred through my creative block—it makes me feel like I can take on anything.