A good brush disappears. You think about the mark, not the bristles. Most software refuses to disappear — it keeps reminding you it exists, with modals and confirmations and clever little flourishes.
When I build creative tools I try to measure how often the maker has to think about the tool instead of the work. Every such moment is a tax. The goal is to push that tax toward zero without making the tool feel thin.
That usually means fewer features, more responsiveness, and defaults chosen with actual taste. It is unglamorous work. It is also the difference between a tool you respect and a tool you love.