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How to Make Art When You’re Tired, Busy, or Discouraged
Let’s be real: out of “tired, busy, or discouraged,” tired is the one that gets me the most. I have sleep issues. Maybe you do too? It’s frustrating, it’s real, and sometimes it means I don’t make art. Not because I don’t want to, but because I just can’t. Same goes for the ultra-busy days (or weeks) and the ones where everything feels kind of heavy and gray. Do I make art on those days? Not always. Sometimes I just need to rest, and that’s okay. But other times—especially when I want to create but feel stuck—I try a few small things that help: 1. Put art on your calendar. Yes, I know. Easier said than done. Especially if you are the one in charge of your schedule. But when I honor my own word—when I show up because I said I would—I feel better. It becomes less about productivity and more about trust. With myself. 2. Make a warm cup of tea and just sit. Sometimes I walk into my studio, tea in hand, and sit quietly with my supplies. No music. No phone. No pressure. Just me and the possibility of making. That quiet presence almost always sparks something. 3. Let go of outcome. Do it for you. When discouragement creeps in, it’s easy to stop making. That’s when I remind myself: this isn’t for the world. It’s for me. The world doesn’t get a vote. I let myself feel whatever I need to feel, and then I sit in my space, pick something up, and start. Even if it’s just smudging pastels on scrap paper. It doesn’t always fix everything. But it always helps something. What about you? What do you do when art feels far away but you want it back? Let’s talk about it in the comments or over in The Creative Collective - this is the kind of thing we all go through, and sometimes just sharing helps a lot.
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If you’ve ever thought about teaching something you know, I’m here to say there are so many benefits you might not expect.
One of the biggest surprises for me has been how much teaching has given back to me. It’s pushed me to put words to things I never had to explain before. Not just about art, but about how I make art. Honestly, when I taught my very first class for adults, I barely knew what I was doing. I think I just set up an interesting still life and said, “OK, do this.” (only a slight exaggeration!) But teaching helped me clarify my process and figure out how to actually guide someone through it. It’s also taught me to stay flexible. Things don’t go as planned. And I’ve learned that’s not only fine, it’s often where the best stuff happens. Every time I teach, I learn something. A new way of seeing, a better question to ask, a different way to describe a tricky concept. And don’t even get me started on the life analogies. There are so many ways that art and life mirror each other. Someone said to me recently, “You can’t really teach art. You can teach technique.” And while I get what she meant - you can’t hand someone their voice or their vision - I don’t fully agree. Because teaching art isn’t just about skills. It’s about helping people discover how they see the world. And that is something you can teach. Not with formulas, but with encouragement, questions, and a safe place to try things. Actually, this should be a future post because I have a lot more to say about what and how you can teach art. And maybe the most unexpected gift? The friendships. Over the past 20-plus years, I’ve met some of the kindest, funniest, most creative people through teaching. Students who became friends. Friends of friends who showed up in class and never left (in the best way). A whole community I never could have planned for, but now couldn’t imagine being without. So if you’re on the fence about teaching something you love, I hope this nudges you a little closer. It’s not just about passing something on. It’s about becoming more of yourself in the process. Recently in The Creative Collective, we had a challenge where we closed our eyes and made marks on a surface for just 60 seconds.
In the past I've told my students to set a timer and work fast when they’re feeling stuck. But I’ve never told anyone to work this fast, until now. Of course, I tried it myself. And it was kind of enlightening. Yes, I’ve talked plenty about taking your time with art. Of course it’s hard sometimes. It takes energy, attention, commitment, and thought. But this was something different. This was fast, messy, and full of feeling. I felt as free as a lucky child. My piece was small and I chose my colors beforehand and it makes me want to try something a lot bigger. Maybe even with a five-minute limit. Here’s what I learned: When you only have 60 seconds, you don’t have time to overthink. You don’t even have time to feel stuck. You just go. And that’s kind of wonderful. I actually like the one I made. And I’m already wondering what my next fast, loose, imperfect piece will be. If you try it, I’d love to hear how it goes. I feel the urge to create often, and I don’t always listen. I’m getting better at it, though. There’s always something calling for attention: laundry, dishes, answering emails, organizing the junk drawer. Procrastination knows how to disguise itself as productivity.
It’s that voice in the back of your head saying, “I really should do this first.” And suddenly, art gets bumped down the list. Again. But here’s the thing about me, and maybe you too. Every single time I make something, I feel better. That doesn’t mean the thing I make is always beautiful, meaningful, or even close to what I imagined. But something shifts. Even when I’m not thrilled with what I’ve made, I learn something. And learning is a win, right? Especially when it helps us grow into better humans - kinder to others and to ourselves. Making art is part of that kind of learning. And some days, I surprise myself. I like what I make. So I keep going. What's your favorite excuse for not making art? So, another blog. Everyone seems to have one. Why am I doing this? Honestly? Because I usually have more questions than answers, and a blog feels like a good place to explore those. It’s a place to wonder out loud, to make connections, and to say things that don’t always fit neatly in a social media post. Also, I care about you. I care about your art, your creativity, your stuck places, your breakthroughs, and your half-finished pieces. We’ve heard it over and over that making art is good for us. But it’s worth repeating, because it’s true. It's scientifically proven. What people don’t always talk about, though, is that art is hard. People tend to imagine artists just playing all day, like kids with crayons, breezing through bursts of inspiration. Sometimes it’s easy. But more often, it’s not. Art can be hard for all kinds of reasons. It takes time, trust, energy, vulnerability, and a weird amount of staring into space. That’s what I want to talk about here. What makes it hard. What makes it worth it. What helps us keep showing up. What I’ve learned, and what I’m still figuring out. Sometimes I’ll offer thoughts. Sometimes I’ll just ask questions and let them echo around. And sometimes, we might find answers together. I’d love for this to be a conversation, so feel free to leave a comment and share your own thoughts. If art feels hard for you, too, you’re in good company. What makes art feel hard for you? Or what helps you keep going when it is? I'd love to hear your thoughts - feel free to leave a comment below. Let’s talk about the real stuff. |
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AuthorMary is an artist and educator with more than 20 years of experience helping adults tap into their creativity. She created The Creative Collective, a supportive online art challenge membership where artists can explore, experiment, and discover their own voice. Mary’s passion for art goes hand in hand with her commitment to kindness and conscious living as a vegan and animal rights advocate. When she’s not making or teaching art, she’s probably dreaming about her future beach house studio or finding inspiration in everyday moments. ArchivesCategories |
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