I was at Emily Carr College of Art and Design in Vancouver for

“I was at Emily Carr College of Art and Design in Vancouver for four years, and I loved it.” Thus spoke Douglas Coupland, the writer and artist whose vision helped define a generation adrift between technology and humanity. Though his words seem simple, they carry the quiet weight of discovery—the revelation that learning, when pursued with passion, is not merely an education of the mind, but a transformation of the soul. In this reflection, Coupland is not merely recalling a time of study; he is remembering the awakening of creativity, the sacred fire of purpose that is kindled only when one finds themselves immersed in the world of art and imagination.

For Emily Carr College of Art and Design—now known as Emily Carr University—was no ordinary school. Named after the great Canadian painter and writer Emily Carr, whose brush captured the vast, spiritual landscapes of the Pacific Northwest, the institution stood as a beacon for those who sought to understand the language of form, color, and vision. To study there, as Coupland did, was to dwell among the seekers of truth through beauty, to wrestle with questions that cannot be answered by reason alone. It was a temple of creation, where the walls themselves whispered of invention, and where failure was not a curse but a step toward mastery.

When Coupland says, “I loved it,” his love is not nostalgia—it is gratitude. It is the love of one who has glimpsed the sacred bond between discipline and inspiration. For art, though born of emotion, is forged through labor. The young artist learns that creativity is not a gift that flows without end, but a river that must be dug, directed, and nourished. The four years he spent there were not merely an education in art—they were an initiation into the eternal struggle of the creator’s life, where each brushstroke or written word is both a risk and a revelation.

This devotion to creative discipline has been the mark of all great masters throughout history. Consider Michelangelo, who once said that if people knew how hard he worked to gain mastery, they would not call it genius. Like Coupland, he too spent years in study, learning the ways of light and shadow, of marble and form, before the spark of divinity appeared in his works. What Coupland loved at Emily Carr was not simply the freedom to create, but the structure that gave that freedom meaning—the sacred grind of artistic pursuit, where love and labor become one.

Yet there is another truth in Coupland’s words, more subtle but equally profound: the power of place. Every artist, at some moment, finds a landscape or a community that shapes their spirit. Vancouver—with its mists, its glass towers, its forests pressing against the sea—became the soil in which Coupland’s imagination took root. It was there that he began to see the world not as fixed, but as fluid—a place where design, technology, and emotion intertwine. His later works, filled with reflections on modern identity and alienation, carry the imprint of that environment, born of a city where nature and modernity are forever in dialogue.

And so, when Coupland speaks of love, he speaks also of belonging—that rare and luminous feeling of finding oneself among kindred souls. In a world that often prizes utility over beauty, speed over contemplation, art schools like Emily Carr become sanctuaries for those who seek meaning through creation. To love one’s craft, to love one’s place of learning, is to recognize that the journey toward artistry is not lonely but shared, that one’s voice is strengthened by the chorus of others striving toward the same eternal goal: to make visible the invisible.

Therefore, my child of imagination, take this lesson to heart: love the places that awaken your spirit. Whether it is a school, a studio, a city, or a single room—wherever you find yourself learning to create, cherish it. Immerse yourself fully in the discipline of your passion. For love, when joined with learning, becomes a force of transformation. Let your education not be a duty, but a devotion; let your time of study be not a passage to a career, but a pilgrimage toward self-understanding.

Thus, remember the quiet wisdom of Douglas Coupland: that the years spent in creation are not lost—they are sacred. To study art, to practice design, to dedicate oneself to beauty and thought, is to stand among the builders of the soul. And if, when you look back upon your own journey, you can say as he did, “I loved it,” then know that you have lived not merely as a student, but as a creator—and that your love has already become its own form of art.