What It's Like to Be 10 Years Into My Art Journey

I started making art regularly in 2015 when I quit my corporate graphic design job to do freelance design work. This gave me more flexibility in my schedule to make art. I started by posting a little art piece every day on Instagram. I’m not even sure if I would call them pieces, because now I look at them as mini doodles. At the time, they felt laborious, but now they would take me under 10 minutes. Eventually my pieces got larger, and I started posting a few to sell on Etsy. Once I caught the bug, it was hard to stop.

The thing that motivated me to start making art back then was this impending feeling that if I didn’t start now, I never would. I believe at the time that was true. I had taken a few art classes in college, but in 2015, I was in my late 20s and had been disconnected from my art for 7 years. As I round each decade of my life, I come to find time to be a motivating factor in the decisions I make. Even though I was still very young, I could see a life path where I didn’t make art ever again much easier than I could see one that included art.

In the beginning, when I first started sharing my work, I felt vulnerable, untalented, and unsure of myself. Every once in a while, I’d make something that would give me this little spark of confidence. Then it was gone almost as quickly as it started. I used to see the art other people were making and it would make me feel terrible about myself. I was pretty certain at the time that art was all about born talent. I questioned whether I really had it or not.

I can tell you today that talent has nothing to do with it. We are simply born with an interest in things. This is the reason some people are inclined to pick up a paintbrush and others are not. I can see this in my son even at one years old. He has things he’s into, and things he couldn’t care less about. This is the driving force that makes us good at things, because we put time into what we’re interested in. Talent is learned. Over the last ten years, I’ve made hundreds (if not thousands) of paintings. More than most people can even imagine. But what keeps me showing up is my interest in art. And as I keep showing up, my talent grows. For anyone who things they aren’t good at anything, that may be true. But the quickest way to get good at something is to figure out what you’re naturally interested in, and to invest time in that thing.

So art must feel easy now, right? In some ways it does. It’s infinitely easier than it was back in 2015, that’s for sure. I’m amazed at how steady my hand has become. How quickly I can get something decent on paper. How easy it is for me to mix up the perfect paint color. How well I’ve become at problem solving. Art is so much about problem solving. It’s making hundreds of tiny decisions as you work though a piece. In the beginning, these decisions felt paralyzing sometimes. I wouldn’t like where a piece was going, so I would scrap it. Now I have the confidence to know that just because I don’t like where it’s going now, I can fix it. I find a lot of joy in seeing just how good I’ve gotten because I’m proud of myself. I almost gave up ten years ago, and instead I’ve turned this into a full-time obsession. It’s incredibly fulfilling as a human to work towards mastering something and to actually see significant progress. There’s no other feeling like it. Sometimes I think so many people are depressed because they aren’t on this pursuit of mastering something.

So everything must be sunshine and rainbows right? Not really. The things I struggle with now are finding the innocence I had in the beginning that allowed me to take risks, try new techniques, and work loosely through a piece. I’ve become very regimented in the way I work, which produces consistent results. However, sometimes it can be hard to find that spark in my work. While I’m delighted at how good I’ve gotten, a lot of times I find myself wondering when a piece is going to be done. I don’t get lost in my work as much. I look at the clock more. Maybe that’s because I’m so focused on outputting a lot of productive work. That’s the thing - because time is limited, all my work has to be productive now. Especially now that I’m a mom. I recently started sketchbooking again, which has been tough. It’s mentally difficult now to spend time on a piece that will never see the light of day. It won’t become a product, book or print. In my head I have the fight the words “what a waste of time.” So, I guess in many ways I’m more jaded than I used to be. Something like sketchbooking is probably exactly what I need right now.

Me and Connor at West Elm last month checking out my pillows.

A lot of this productive mindset might come from the fact that I’m actually making money from my art (full-time now), which I wasn’t anywhere close to 10 years ago. It puts a certain pressure on the work that it has to count for something. The money piece is interesting, because it happened in a way I never expected. For five years, I was posting prints on Etsy, and it was crickets. Every once in a while, I would get a sale and it would make my month! I’m sure most people would have given up at that point. Brands weren’t interested in working with me either. I had a little collaboration with Sharpie on Instagram, and that completed my life. Then, in 2020, a boom happened. With Covid, suddenly I was making six figures from my print shop. Then, in 2021 Harper Collins asked me to illustrate a book. At that point, I was making more money than I ever had in my life. Then, I did a collaboration with Hatch. Then in 2022, I started working with West Elm regularly, which kind of felt like a dream come true. I’ve since landed some other big clients that I could have only dreamed of working with in the past. So, the “success piece” of it was really slow going at first, and then it came in like a freight train. Which is often how I hear other people describe it too. So my advice to anyone wondering if financial success is ever going to happen is to hang in there. Wait it out. This may be your year and it would be such a shame to give up now after far you’ve already come. Just keep in mind that the financial piece of it isn’t the only measure of success. To me, as long as you have “enough” money, time and freedom are worth so much more.

So it sounds like I’ve really made it right? Not in the slightest. The thing about getting a little success is that you just want more of it. I have to stop and remind myself to be grateful that I’m even making a living as an artist. Ten years ago, this was everything I ever wanted, yet sometimes it no longer feels like it’s enough. I have two children’s books I’m trying to get out into the world (which hasn’t been easy), and a list of brands I’d love to work with that probably don’t know I exist. I dream of bigger studio space that would allow me to make better work. My space now is becoming tight with my printers, shipping supplies, and a baby on the loose. I’d love to build and design my own space one day. So I’m constantly having to remind myself that I did it, and quieting the part of my brain that’s telling me I want more.

I did it. And it wasn’t easy. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, sticking with this crazy “hobby” for ten years. I say hobby, because that’s still how most people see it. It’s funny, people still don’t really get what I do after all this time. How can I possibly make a living from art? Aren’t all artists starving? My husband must pay the bills, right? Being a full-time artist is so different from what most people do, it’s hard to comprehend. So I try to be understanding and patient. Yet, I still feel misunderstood.

That’s another thing I’d tell anyone just starting out - no matter how much success you find, life as a full-time artist can be lonely. I don’t feel lonely as a person, but I feel lonely in my pursuit (if that makes any sense at all). Even when you find success, it might be hard to talk about. Same with the struggles. You might feel misunderstood, except amongst other artists. Which is why it’s so important to have a creative community, something I need to work on. Art is a lifestyle, and if you aren’t living it, you don’t really get it. I find it so refreshing to talk to another artist because sometimes it feels like I’m speaking a different language than everyone else I know. When I talk to another artist, it’s like finding the only other person on earth who speaks the same language as you. It’s everything.

So final words to anyone just starting out - never give up. What I’ve come to realize in my late thirties is that you can make all your dreams come true, but you don’t get to choose how and when they happen. All you can do is to keep putting effort in, and never give up. Be confident that your time is coming, no matter what anyone else tells you. Because when you’re doing that thing you were born to do, things eventually just start happening for you. And remember - you can’t start yesterday. But starting today is better than starting tomorrow.