Artist Fatigue

Art blocks, social media burnout and other uncomfortable truths.

If you are an artist, you know what I am talking about. This is what you want to do in life, but there are times in which that creative well suddenly runs dry.

The industry is very competitive, there is a constant strive to be noticed among the many talented individuals that are doing what you do, and you are tired.

You used to enjoy posting your work online and get interactions, but lately it feels like you are just throwing those pieces of your soul into the void, or worse, into the jaws of AI.

It makes you angry, frustrated, sad, but most of all, it makes you feel empty.

Yes, you should keep up with times, the visibility machine wants reels, videos, it wants to see your face and hear your voice.

But, and this is a big BUT, many of us don’t want to do that, simply because it heavily disrupts the way we work and produce quality art. For example, a couple of years ago I bought a phone holder to try and record my drawing process. No matter how I placed it, the whole time I was too worried to achieve my natural process. Is my hand covering the art? Is the iPad reflecting the light? Did I move the paper out of the setting? Will I have to start all over again because the filming is not good? Among all that noise, I would lose the pleasure of making art. And it showed in the final result.

There are many artists who manage to be artists and content creators at the same time, and I admire them for this, but it doesn’t work for me. To create, I need the freedom to move, to stop and think, I need quiet, most of all I need time, without the feeling of an intrusive eye checking on me constantly.

I post way less now. I do it when I want to, I might not post for weeks. It doesn’t matter. The algorithm will punish me either way because I am not producing what it wants. And I decided I will not let it influence my life anymore.

I found a much nicer environment here on Substack, I show my work when I feel like it, and I write when I feel like it. And I finally breathe after a long time.

Art blocks are tough for artists. It is bad enough when no one is looking, let alone when you are expected to show up with new content every day!

For me, the first sign of an art block is procrastination. I’ll make excuses for not drawing or not writing. I need to clean this or that, I must reorganize the wardrobe or the kitchen, I absolutely have to sort that old mail. Sometimes it helps to do something else, sometimes you just need a break, but other times this procrastination starts to feel like quicksand, and it is very difficult to get out.

The ideas in your head are all entangled together, and you can’t get a clear look at any of them. The paper (or screen) in front of you is depressingly white, and nothing you put on it seems to fill it.

What helps me lately is playing with traditional media, and doing projects for myself, like the little botanical pictures I shared a few days ago.

It’s not something for the world, it’s something for me, and I am the only one that has to like it. This takes the pressure off. This makes it enjoyable again. This makes me want to do things once more.

After this project, I wrote a new story, and I can’t wait to share it with my precious critique group. Those ladies are not simply an extra set of eyes, they are a constant inspiration, and I am very grateful to have them in my life. With kindness and intelligence, they help me shape my work in a better form. With their projects and their creativity, they incite me to create as well.

Being an artist is not easy, especially these days, so if you feel like I feel, I hope these thoughts I shared will help you in some way. Perhaps you will want to try a little project just for yourself. Or you will find caring people to set up a critique group. Or you will feel less lonely knowing that others don’t see themselves as full-time content creators either. In any case, do what you need to do to find your dimension. Do what makes you happy. Because when we thrive, our art thrives as well. No matter the number of likes.