Most know Georgia O’Keeffe as a famous artist who painted flowers. But few know the story behind the first painting she felt was her own. According to biographer Roxana Robinson, it was a revelation for the young artist.

It was summer of 1908. O’Keeffe was 20, excelling in art school, and she had just won a scholarship to an artist’s retreat on Lake George for a still life she painted of a dead rabbit (not exactly the liveliest subject, but it worked).

Like much of her work at the time, it was technically flawless. She had learned to imitate her teachers’ styles with impeccable realism. And winning the scholarship proved she could do exactly what she’d been taught.

Yet … it revealed nothing real of her personally.

Nonetheless, onto the retreat she went, her first trip of many to Lake George, in what’s now Upstate New York. The lake was quiet and intimate then. You experienced it close up, by rowing across it or sitting on the dock for hours as your reflection changed.

The water was clear, cold, and pristine. Daises were blooming. The mountains were blue beyond the lake. O’Keeffe painted outside for the first time.

But she felt nothing.

“It just didn’t seem to be anything I wanted to paint,” she later said.

One afternoon, a young man at the retreat asked her to row across the lake with him. Except O’Keeffe liked someone else. So, practical and direct as she’d been raised on a Wisconsin farm, she invited the other man along (because, why not?).

Like an accidental group coffee date, it was incredibly awkward. The mood went flat almost immediately. Roxana Robinson describes it simply, “The first man had neither expected nor wanted a second.”

They reached the other side of the lake, made a trip to the grocery store, and returned to find nothing but the lake—their rowboat was stolen.

So they walked. Halfway around the lake. Carrying all the supplies they bought. It took so long it started to get dark, and the air turned cold. Nothing was going right and O’Keeffe just wanted the night to be over.    

But it was then she paused and looked back at the lake. What she saw mirrored just how she felt …

In her words, “… wet and swampy and gloomy, very gloomy.”

Some may have admired the beauty and peacefulness of the lake in that moment, but not O’Keeffe, because that’s not how she felt.

In that moment, she realized something no one had taught her … how she felt shaped what she saw … not the other way around.

The next day, she painted the lake just how she felt the night before. She was trying something new—letting her emotion come before technique.

She felt it was her best painting that summer.

It was incredibly meaningful to her. So meaningful in fact, that she gave it away (which she seldom did at the time) to the man she liked. The one she so boldly invited into the rowboat.

O’Keeffe didn’t struggle because she lacked logic. She was technically excellent. Her work looked amazing. It won her a scholarship. And yet, it didn’t feel like hers.

Like the award-winning marketing campaign that feels just like the others, it could belong to anyone, and if your logo were removed, no one would know it’s yours. The results are good, but they could mean more.

For years before she became famous, O’Keeffe was taught to imitate others. Great artists, teachers, and trends obsessed with replicating realism that didn’t actually feel real.

Her training taught her how to execute with logic, but not how to express her emotions.    

Technique without emotion had silenced her voice.  

And that’s the thing about marketing.

A lot of us are where O’Keeffe was in 1908.

And quietly disconnected.

But the work often feels interchangeable, like a transaction. And we just keep looking at it the same way.

It’s technically sound. It’s winning awards. But emotionally, it’s empty. It lacks meaning.

Why? Because the most important elements are out of order.

When marketing fails, it’s not because the team doesn’t know how to do marketing. O’Keeffe didn’t become famous when she learned how to paint. She was successful when her mindset changed, and she put emotion before technique.

Marketing works the same way, especially in industries built on trust.

When we create a campaign starting with logic, it may perform well, but lack meaning. There’s no differentiation because it merely imitates others.

That’s where The MEL Method can help. It’s a simple formula for creating marketing with meaning—marketing that feels real instead of reproduced. Not by adding more, but by putting the most important elements in the right order.    

Mindset

Mindset is your foundation. It’s what you believe about your role, your customers, and why you exist. When mindset comes first in marketing, it creates purpose, clarity, and something meaningful worth expressing.

Empathy

Empathy is your extension. It’s how you resonate with others through emotion because you’ve focused on listening, understanding, and building human connection through feeling. It gives you direction and it’s how you build trust.   

Logic

Logic is your translation. It belongs last because it’s interpretive. When logic is built on mindset and empathy, technique becomes a tool for making messages clear, decisions intentional, and data and insights actionable. It’s how you produce results that truly matter while still feeling human. 

When you put mindset and empathy in your marketing before logic, you grow differentiation you can feel good about. And differentiation leads to demand that’s sustainable and built on trust.

O’Keeffe became famous because she stayed true to herself and trusted what she felt to guide what she knew. Technique gave her skill. But when she changed her mindset and let emotion lead before technique, it provided the foundation she needed to express herself. Technique stopped being the point and instead it became a tool. And most importantly, the work finally felt like hers.

I think that’s what meaningful differentiation looks like.

Like a leaf in nature, it should be unique for every person and every brand. That’s the whole point. No two leaves are ever the same. Just like no two people are. And people are the point. People create mindset. People understanding other people create empathy. Those elements together are what allow us to apply logic in a way that doesn’t feel manufactured, and still produces results.

And there’s logic we can apply to how meaningful this is … Harvard Business Review found that emotionally connected customers are more than 2x as valuable as highly satisfied customers.

So, it’s less about choosing between empathy and logic or purpose and performance. As marketers, we tend to operate with opposites and extremes, but it doesn’t have to be that way.

When we put the most meaningful parts of marketing in the right order, they stop competing and start compounding—creating marketing that’s good for people, good for the numbers, and differentiates because it feels unmistakably yours.

What You’ll Need:

When starting with mindset, start without a screen. Close the laptop and put your phone away on silent.

A blank piece of paper is my favorite image. Because it can be anything. A piece of art, a story, a revelation. The start of something new.

The beauty of it isn’t necessarily what it becomes. Or who sees it. No one else saw O’Keeffe’s gloomy depiction of Lake George, but that didn’t make it any less meaningful. What matters is that you’re creating it.

So, start with a blank piece of paper. Or maybe a blank whiteboard with your team.

Then, answer these three questions:

If this story sparked a thought, a question, or even a gentle disagreement, I’d love to hear it. Tell me what resonated—or what didn’t.

I’d love to make this a conversation so we can learn and grow together.