One of the questions I find myself asking artists from time to time isn't "What are you working on?" but rather, "When did you stop creating for yourself?" Something I've noticed over the years is that a lot of artists never actually stop creating~ The work still gets made~ The commissions get finished. The client work gets delivered. The social media posts go out. The shop gets updated. The deadlines get met. From the outside, it looks like a thriving creative practice~ Yet when you ask what they're making for themselves, the answer is often silence. Or a laugh. Or a story about a project they've been meaning to get back to for three years. At some point, many creatives begin treating their own interests as optional. Everyone else's project gets a place on the calendar. Their own ideas get whatever time is left over at the end of the day. Which, as most of us know, usually means they get nothing at all. I don't think this happens because people stop caring~ If anything, I think it happens because they're caring for too many things at once. The irony is that the work that first made many of us fall in love with creating was often the work nobody asked for. The strange experiments. The weird ideas. The projects that didn't need a business plan, audience, market, or justification. Just curiosity~ and I love seeing those little sparks and glimmers~ there is something so beautiful in those random one off pieces~ Why did you stop creating for yourself, and what would help you start again?

Few words have discouraged more artists, writers, musicians, and creators than the word talent. We often hear people say things like: "I could never do that." "You're just naturally gifted." "I wasn't born with artistic talent." At first glance, these statements may sound like compliments. But hidden within them is a belief that stops many people from ever beginning. The belief that creativity is something you either have or you don't. The belief that talent matters more than effort. The belief that some people were chosen while others were left behind. In reality, the story is usually far (really really far...) more complicated. When we see a finished painting, a beautifully written story, a stunning photograph, or a masterfully played song, we are seeing the visible result of countless invisible hours. We see the artwork. We do not see the sketchbooks. We see the finished novel. We do not see the discarded drafts. We see the performance. We do not see the years of practice. What many people call talent is often a combination of curiosity, repetition, persistence, observation, and time. That doesn't mean natural aptitude doesn't exist. Some people may pick up certain skills faster than others. Some people may have an easier time understanding color, rhythm, language, or form. But aptitude is only the starting point. Without practice, even the most gifted individual eventually stalls. Meanwhile, someone with average ability who shows up consistently can improve far beyond what they once thought possible. The gap between beginner and expert is rarely crossed in a single leap. It is crossed through thousands of small steps. One sketch. One lesson. One experiment. One mistake. One attempt after another. Unfortunately, the myth of talent creates another problem. Comparison~ A beginner compares their first drawing to someone else's twentieth year of experience. A new writer compares their rough draft to a published novel. A new musician compares their practice session to a polished performance.

One week of intentional practice with new tools and materials can change a lot. This past week I spent 1 hour a day really learning my new paper, brushes, and water ratios instead of rushing to make finished work. Just slowing down and experimenting, researching, and playing~ seeing how much water the paper can actually hold, how pigment disperses, when ink blooms beautifully versus when it muddies, how different brushes carry and release paint. This kind of practice is IMPORTANT~! We NEED this to further ourselves. We can't expect to get better on a whim and some sheer luck. A week of focused experimentation builds familiarity. Familiarity builds confidence. Confidence builds fluency. Suddenly your hand hesitates less because you understand your materials instead of fighting them. I think a lot of artists feel pressure to constantly produce finished pieces, but growth happens in the quieter moments more often than not~ the testing, the failed marks, the weird little experiments, the “what happens if I try this?” sessions. Practice is not wasted time. Learning your tools is part of the art itself. What would it look like for you if you spent even 20 minutes a day learning your tools, materials, process, or craft a little more~? (Here are my 6 days... I somehow didn't take a pic of some of the things I added~ last one was from tonight where I started playing with ideas for how this can be applied to designs and patterns~ slightly blame @Jen Ritchie for that 🤣🫶🏻)

What’s currently on your desk, easel, sketchbook, screen, workbench, or mind this week~? Big projects, tiny experiments, messy middle stages, color tests, half-finished ideas, planning notes, scribbles on sticky notes… it all counts. Creative work rarely appears fully formed~ most of the magic happens in the layers between beginning and completion. This is your reminder that progress does not need to look polished to matter. 🌿 Share your works in progress below~ We’d love to see what you’re building, exploring, learning, or even struggling through this week. Sometimes seeing another artist’s “in-between” stage helps someone else keep going too.

What’s in progress this week? Not everything we make is meant to be finished in one sitting~ and honestly, most of the good stuff isn’t. This is your space to share what you’re currently building, whether it's: sketches, rough drafts, half-finished pieces, messy middles, all of it. A few gentle reminders if you need them: • What are you working on right now? • What part feels clear vs. uncertain? • Where are you in your process~ start, middle, or refinement? Remember~ WIP isn’t “not done.” It’s in motion~ Drop your work below (or just tell us about it) 👇 Let’s see what’s unfolding with everyone this week.