Art as Constant

A common assumption is that for creative individuals, making art is easy — arrived at through effortless outpourings of inspiration. But anyone who makes artwork seriously knows the opposite is true: it can be deeply challenging, and is generally not a product of inspiration, but rather the result of intentional and repeated action.

For a hobbyist, artwork might only get made when motivation or inspiration strikes. But for working artists, it requires the same stamina and discipline as any day job — arguably more so, because it often doesn’t come with a reliable salary for accountability.

Making art is also frequently accompanied by stretches of doubt, technical frustration, and a kind of existential questioning that rears its head every now and then, just to test your commitment. And yet — I (and so many others) return to it.

I make art even when it’s hard because something in me needs to. It's not always joyful or free-flowing. Sometimes I don’t feel like making it at all. But I’m also a big Stephen Pressfield fan and believe quite steadily in the power of resistance — and that it must be fought anew every day.

Some days it’s quiet, repetitive work: standing, looking, reworking, questioning, undoing, redoing. But the act of making helps me process the world — and more importantly, helps me stay connected to something within myself. Something I’ve always been pulled to do.

Art gives shape to thoughts and feelings I don’t always have language for. It slows me down. It keeps me curious. And I’ve come to understand that even the work that isn’t working has value in the making process. Sometimes, that work — while not appreciated in the moment — finds its place later.

Some of the most powerful work you make will be forged through effort, discomfort, doubt, and even dislike. Hold on to it. It may shine later.