The emotional side of being an artist that nobody talks about.

Society loves the idea of artists - the passion, freedom and creativity but rarely talks about the emotional pressure that comes with constantly creating.

The reality is, being an artist that is trying to break into the industry can be heavy, deflating and have you ready to throw the towelin at any moment.

People admire the finished artwork but rarely stop to consider what it took to create it - The hours, the doubt, the frustration. Do they even care?

We live in a world where everything is so fast paced. Short attention spans. Rapid responses. Everything’s on x2 speed - except art.

Creating art is slow. It’s steady. It’s something that should never be rushed just to appease the masses.

So how do we (reluctantly) keep up with society?

By becoming content creators. Performance replaces presence. A post replaces a masterpiece. Artists are forced to become videographers to keep up with the demand of keeping people entertained, as opposed to living in their true passion and creating because that’s what makes them feel good.

The process is relentless. Record. Edit. Upload. Engage. Repeat…and then comes the waiting.

Waiting to see if the algorithm is gracious enough to be on your side and if not. Waiting to see if people interact. Waiting to see if your work is seen.

When it isn’t? Grey cloud. Self doubt. Am I good enough? Why hasn’t my art done well? Why does nobody care?

It’s not just the lack of interaction that weighs on artists - it’s the lack of sales too. You’re told to charge what you’re worth but then you struggle to make sales so you begin to doubt your value. Am I even worth the amount I’m asking for?

You lower your prices. You create more affordable options. You try new strategies but still the struggle remains and once again, you’re left wondering what you’re doing wrong.

Like a hammer to a nail you keep forcing that self-doubt in, deeper and deeper.

Then, just when you think things can’t get any worse, creative block arrives at your door.

It traps you like a prison cell, stealing your ability to create. The desire is still there. The urge to paint, draw, write, sculpt or make something meaningful burns inside you but creativity feels out of reach.

This could last for days, weeks, months. A constant battle trying to pull yourself out of this funk but you have no real clue how to.

It’s simply a waiting game - and while you’re waiting, the pressure returns. You worry about not posting enough. You worry about disappearing. You worry about being forgotten.

Meanwhile, life continues. You have your career, your family, your social life, your finances, religion, health - you name it. You have your own desires and goals that you’re trying to accomplish outside of art. Why? Because artists carry the same responsibilities and burdens as everyone else.

People see artists and see escapism and the whimsy of it all but being an artist isn’t always glitz and glam. There’s a side of it that many do not see.

The uncertainty. The sacrifice. The resilience.

Being an artist isn’t always inspiring. Sometimes it’s frustrating, lonely and emotionally draining but despite all of that, artists continue to create.

Not because it’s easy and profitable but because something inside of them refused to stop. The passion and purpose of why they create large enough to override those feelings.

As an artist myself, I’ve experienced the self-doubt, the pressure, the creative blocks and the feeling of being unseen. I’ve too, questioned my work and my value yet I always come back to the same truth:

The reason we create has to be bigger than the noise surrounding it.

Artists, you are seen. You are seen by those who look beyond your art. The passion, the struggle, the hope. The courage it takes to keep creating when nobody is watching.

The noise will always be there. Your job is not to obey it.