The Question That Won’t Leave Me Alone

Reading Linchpin this week made me face an uncomfortable truth: I’ve been living like someone who loves art but doesn’t make any.

I scroll through incredible work every day. I bookmark tutorials I never implement. I follow artists whose lives I envy. But when I look at my own output – 20 commissions over two years, €2,500 total – I realize I’ve been treating this as a hobby while dreaming of it as a career.

I consume more than I create. I plan more than I produce. I dream more than I do.

This isn’t a success story. It’s the raw, messy middle of trying to figure out what it actually means to take creativity seriously.

 

Why I Keep Choosing Scrolling Over Creating

I tell myself I’m “researching” or “getting inspired” when I’m really just avoiding the hard work of making something myself.

Scrolling feels productive. It feels like learning. But when I’m honest, it’s often just procrastination with better marketing.

My brain loves consuming because it requires no risk. Looking at amazing art gives me a tiny hit of satisfaction without the vulnerability of possibly creating terrible art. Just when I’m about to close the app and actually draw something, the algorithm shows me one more incredible piece that makes me think, “I should study this technique first.”

Three hours later, I’m exhausted from consuming and have no mental energy left to create.

Here’s what I’m realizing: consumption isn’t the enemy. The problem is I’ve been using it as a substitute for creation rather than fuel for it.

 

The Validation Trap I Can’t Escape

I wish I could say I create purely for the love of it, but that would be a lie.

When a piece gets good engagement, I feel accomplished. When it doesn’t, I question everything. I’ve refreshed X more times than I care to admit, watching like counts like stock prices.

This creates a terrible cycle: I start creating for the audience instead of for the work. I second-guess my instincts. I play it safe instead of exploring what actually interests me.

The worst part? The validation is never enough. Even when a piece does well, the high fades quickly and I’m back chasing the next hit.

 

The Money Math That Keeps Me Up

Let me be painfully honest about the economics: €2,500 over two years isn’t a career – it’s a hobby that occasionally pays for art supplies.

I need roughly €20,000 a year to live modestly. At my current rate, that’s 8x more work than I’m currently doing. The math is sobering, but it reveals something important: if I’m only completing 10 commissions annually, I’m working maybe 2-3 hours per week on client art.

I’ve been complaining about hobby-level income while putting in hobby-level effort.

Here’s the reality most artist advice glosses over: I don’t have family money to bridge the gap. I can’t afford to “just follow passion” without considering rent and taxes. But the real issue isn’t market demand – it’s my work ethic.

 

The Professional Gap I’m Trying to Close

The difference between amateur and professional isn’t talent – it’s systems and consistency.

I’m already professional in one area: my computer science studies. Third year, not particularly passionate about becoming a software engineer, but I still show up to classes, meet deadlines, maintain standards. I treat my studies seriously regardless of how I feel.

The professional approach looks like this:

  • Work happens on schedule, not when you feel like it
  • Quality comes from volume, not perfection
  • Systems beat motivation every time
  • Process outweighs outcome

I don’t love every CS assignment either. The difference is treating the work as seriously as any other commitment, regardless of my feelings in the moment.

 

What I’m Actually Trying (No Guarantees)

I don’t have a proven system because I’m still building mine. But here’s what I’m experimenting with:

Current Experiments:

  • Time tracking with ManicTime to see where hours actually go
  • Weekly newsletter commitment (this is #2)
  • Daily tweet goal

Next Experiments:

  • Treating drawing like required coursework with real deadlines
  • 50% creating, 30% connecting, 20% learning time split
  • Creating before consuming each day

The honest truth? I might fail at all of this. The time split might be terrible in practice. Early morning creation might not stick. I might discover my real problem is something completely different.

But staying where I am – 2-3 hours per week of actual creative work while dreaming of creative success – definitely doesn’t work.

 

What I Know vs. What I’m Still Figuring Out

I can’t tell you how to make it as an artist because I haven’t made it yet. I can’t promise any approach will lead to success because I have no proof it will.

But I can tell you what definitely doesn’t work: continuing to consume instead of create, dream instead of do, analyze instead of act.

The path forward isn’t clear, but the path backward is obvious – and I’m not going that direction.

If you’re in the same place, maybe we don’t need to have it figured out before we begin. Maybe beginning is how we figure it out.

Your creative work is waiting. Mine is too.