Make Your Art No Matter What

artists face unique challenges that can make sustaining a creative life daunting. from financial instability and time constraints to self-doubt and societal pressure, the path to making art is often littered with hurdles that can sap motivation and stifle expression. these realities can become so overwhelming that many artists find themselves too paralyzed to pursue their creative work, causing them further pain. 

if this scenario sounds familiar to you, then this chapter will provide a path forward. there are simple steps you can take to support both the practical and emotional aspects of creative living, while helping you manage the usual daily demands. in the sections ahead, you’ll discover how to move past fears and frustrations, reconnect with your creative spirit, and honor your art as a vital, lifelong practice.

if you’re an artist – be it a musician, a painter, a writer, or any other type of creative – and you’re struggling to commit to your practice, you probably feel like you have a good reason. for most artists, the number one reason is time.

fighting against time is an existential dilemma. if you zoom out and look at how many people there are on earth, and how little time we have to make our mark, it can be either dispiriting or motivational. it’s up to you, but the best thing to do is to use this perspective as fuel for your ambition.

knowing our time is finite pushes us to ask: how do we want to spend it? what choices will we make with this precious gift of existence? the answer is simple but profound: prioritize your art. it’s easy to get swept up in life’s endless demands – jobs, family, digital distractions – but the world isn’t going to hand you time to create. you have to claim it.

to put it another way: you don’t make art for money or rewards. you make art because you’re an artist and you’d be miserable and incomplete if you didn’t. neglecting your practice will only hurt you, and that hurt will then spread to those around you.

to reclaim your creative time, start by looking honestly at how you use it. spend one week doing a time audit, which involves taking a few seconds every 15 minutes to jot down what you’re doing. this exercise can reveal surprising patterns. it’ll help you identify habits that aren’t serving you and could be replaced with art-making. the aim isn’t to establish a new rigid regime; it’s about opening up space for what truly matters.

so, take a hard look at your current schedule and find pockets of time for your practice. the bottom line? time isn’t infinite. let go of guilt, release perfectionism, and protect your practice like it’s sacred – because it is.

after time, one of the biggest concerns for any artist is money. how do you make a living and still create? this question isn’t a paradox to solve. rather, it’s a balancing act that you’ll need to work and rework throughout your life.

although it’s challenging, stop tying your sense of artistic worth to the income your practice generates. this mindset can be toxic. you don’t need to make a living from your art for it to have value. instead, reframe the idea of employment as the thing that funds your life, including your creative pursuits.

putting the burden of income on your art can lead to burnout or even resentment. remember, your art exists because you’re an artist – not because it earns you money. this radical idea allows for a healthier mindset: even if your art never generates income, it’s still important and worth pursuing.

now, let’s rethink the type of work that could complement your creative life. start by making a list of every job you’ve held – along with what you liked or disliked about each. do you thrive on structure or flexibility? do you enjoy collaboration, or do you work best solo? what bankable skills have you picked up along the way? this exercise can reveal patterns and options that could lead to satisfying, sustainable employment.

when it comes to monetizing your skills, there are opportunities beyond your primary medium. for example, teaching – whether it’s classes for kids or workshops for adults – is often a sustainable means of employment for artists. but try thinking outside the box. for instance, a musician in a band might earn money by composing tunes for commercials. likewise, many writers find work as freelance editors.

the aim here is to “rightsize” your relationship with paid work. employment is a tool to support your life and art – not the other way around. by easing financial pressure on your creativity, you can keep your artistic practice joyful and sustainable.

employment is one major factor that affects an artist’s sense of stability but their relationship with money is equally important.

money triggers strong emotions for many creatives, including anger, guilt, and fear. often, financial literacy isn’t something we’re taught. instead, we pick up bad habits that are difficult to unlearn.

as with many of the issues that we’ll touch on, the solution begins with gaining awareness. when you understand the emotional baggage that’s tied to how you think about and manage money, you can start the process of forming better habits. take an honest look at your financial history, including how your family shaped your beliefs about money, and whether those beliefs cause you to under-earn or undervalue your work. for instance, you might undercharge for creative commissions because your parents don’t value artistic talents.

gaining a healthy relationship with money isn’t easy, but you can take steps in the right direction by setting realistic, short-term financial goals, like saving for an emergency fund or paying off a debt. as for day-to-day behaviors, try the envelope method by taking out a set amount of cash at the beginning of each month for things like groceries and making that your non-negotiable monthly limit. also unsubscribe from marketing emails and subscription services that you don’t really need.

fear is universal. it’s a built-in mechanism that keeps us safe. but it’s especially paralyzing for artists. everyday anxieties – like rejection or creating “bad” art – can feel like a primal life-or-death scenario.

the key here is to give up on the idea that you’ll ever conquer fear. it’s not going to happen. instead, use the three as: awareness, acceptance, and action.

start by listing your fears to build awareness. then, accept them without judgment – acknowledging their existence without letting them define you. finally, take contrary action and push yourself to do the thing you’re afraid of. start small and build up your resistance, for example, by sharing your work with trusted friends or raising your rates.

artists tend to avoid both fear and money. but in truth they can be opportunities for growth, helping artists reclaim control while staying true to their creative passions.

grief is an uninvited guest in life’s journey – ever-present, often feared, but deeply human. yet like fear, grief isn’t something to conquer or avoid; it’s something to navigate. 

grief is cumulative, sneaky, and relentless, surfacing in ways we might not expect. from irritability to profound sadness, grief can seep into every corner of our lives if left unaddressed. for many artists, creative work becomes a means to explore grief. art can provide a path through it, transforming it into something tangible and meaningful.

but again, awareness here is essential. since part of art’s role is to transform difficult experiences, it’s crucial to create supportive environments for ourselves as artists, not just for our work but for the emotions that inevitably arise alongside it. 

healthy relationships are central to this support. whether it’s your relationship with yourself, family, or collaborators, these connections influence your practice in profound ways. self-awareness is key; therapy can provide the tools to understand how your past shapes your present dynamics. strong, supportive relationships are the ones that act as a foundation, recharging you for your creative work, which in turn allows you to show up fully for those you love.

let’s go one more round into therapeutic territory and touch on the trifecta of thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. because let’s face it, these are things that can lead to any number of creative hurdles.

the saying “don’t believe everything you think” might be simple enough to fit on a bumper sticker, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. thoughts can be tricky, often fueled by stress, hormones, or old habits. the fact remains, most thoughts don’t warrant a second glance, much less action.

this is important to recognize: the first thought isn’t something you can control, but you can control the second thought and the subsequent actions you take. imagine noticing a thought like, “i’m terrible at this,” and countering it with a kinder second thought like, “maybe i’m learning, and that’s okay.” that mental pivot might seem small, but it’s a powerful practice that reshapes your emotional and creative landscape.

emotions like anger and sadness find their way into art. when you’re overwhelmed and on edge, try the exercise of asking yourself the two-fold question: what am i feeling, and what can i do with it? for artists, sublimating emotions – turning raw feelings into creative work – can be both cathartic and transformative.

being aware of your feelings in relation to isolation is also paramount. there’s a nuanced dance between depressive isolation and peaceful solitude. artists, by nature, often work alone, but isolation can creep in unnoticed, bringing a toxic haze with it. 

think of it this way: solitude can be a nurturing inward journey, whereas isolation can be a fear-driven retreat. the advice here is to stay ahead of the spiral. 

write yourself a letter to read during tough times. tell yourself about the things you genuinely love to do when not isolating, like spending time with the people who make you happy and the activities you enjoy outside your home. even small steps, like working in a café or a co-working space, can keep you grounded when isolation takes hold.

don’t forget that your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are interconnected. but with intention and care, you can shape them to support your art – and yourself.

now, let’s move on to another subject that artists often want to avoid: marketing. for many of us, self-promotion is uncomfortable, if not utterly repellent.

we struggle with marketing because it feels like asking for something: attention, space, validation – all of which stirs up an uneasy fear of judgment. that’s a vulnerable position to be in for those who’ve been conditioned to believe that their voice doesn’t matter. 

but think of it this way: marketing isn’t about promoting yourself; it’s about sharing your work. your art isn’t you. it deserves to take up some attention and space – and marketing is simply a way of making that happen.

there are three basic marketing tools you should take advantage of. first is a website. this is essential. your website is your digital home – a space where anyone can learn about you and your work. make it simple yet professional, with a bio, contact info, and examples of your art. 

next, pick one popular social media platform that you can tolerate. create a professional account, not a personal one, and treat it like a tool, not your whole world. make regular posts that promote your art and any shows or performances, and limit the time you spend on it so that it doesn’t become a distraction.

meanwhile, an email list allows you to communicate directly with your audience, keeping them in the loop about events, projects, and updates. and don’t underestimate partnerships. every collaboration – whether with other artists, organizations, or events – creates opportunities for cross-promotion.

in this final section, let’s create a bookend. we started out thinking about our limited time on earth, so let’s end on another existential note. 

after all, exploring your spiritual interior is a fundamental part of living a fully engaged life. for some, creative practice serves as their primary form of spirituality. through the act of creation, artists connect deeply with themselves, their communities, and something larger – a process that mirrors the essence of spiritual practice.

with this in mind, consider the positive impact that death acceptance can have on your art and life in general. in a society that frequently denies or avoids death, artists can play a unique role in helping others face this universal truth. 

while death can be overwhelming, embracing it transforms how you approach life. a daily awareness of life’s impermanence allows you to live with greater intention, build meaningful connections, and appreciate the fleeting beauty of existence. it’s not about dwelling in sadness but about using this understanding to cultivate a deeper appreciation for life.

art can provide a profound space for these reflections. composer william basinski’s the disintegration loops – which was made in the shadow of 9/11 and plays with themes of decay, memory, and renewal – is a perfect example of how art can represent the delicate interplay between creation and loss. when artists embrace such themes in their work, they create opportunities for introspection and healing, both for themselves and their audiences.

there’s no final destination in this journey, only an ongoing commitment to engage with these aspects of existence and explore the transformative insights they offer. and that’s what great art is all about.

the main takeaway of this chapter to make your art no matter what by beth pickens is that it’s important for artists to prioritize their practice amid the realities of life. auditing your daily routines can support this by identifying available time for your practice. 

to overcome money struggles and nagging self-doubt, awareness is key to first recognizing bad habits and then replacing them with better behaviors. the three as of awareness, acceptance, and contrary action can lead to profound changes. learning to sublimate tricky emotions into your art, and recognizing when solitude slips into dangerous isolation, is also an important step in maintaining your practice during difficult times. 

cultivating a spiritual interior, and engaging with themes of death and connection to something larger, are integral to a meaningful creative practice. sustaining your practice over the long haul requires ongoing self-reflection and recognizing the value that their unique perspective contributes to the world.

okay, that’s it for this chapter. we hope you enjoyed it. if you can, please take the time to leave us a rating – we always appreciate your feedback. see you in the next chapter.