Why do we suffer for art?

No, it's not about the tormented artist.

Not everyone can have what they want and to have what one wants is to accept the burdens that come with it. Which is better? - Note from a 2019 journal (Was this a quote? Who said it? I hate when this happens…)

Like most activities in this age, we feel compelled to monetize or recoup time and money we’ve invested. The few people who create without suffering are those who embrace the nature of the hobby and by doing so, they are free to make progress and eventually, if things align they might have an opportunity to step out and share their work in the real world.

But to get there, we should be lucky to avoid the mindset of monetizing everything.

Here is my story:

I wanted to learn to draw because I thought I would keep a lovely illustrated journal of my life. I imagined beautiful pages of the coffees I drank, the food I ate, the books I read. So I took my first online drawing class.

Almost simultaneously I came across another online class: one that promised to teach you how to draw and make those drawings digital so you could sell them as clipart on Etsy.

Being an unhappy employee for most of my life, this sounded marvellous. It never crossed my mind that every drawing or artwork that I saw across products, book covers, etc was produced by a (supposedly paid) illustrator and so this deceitful simple idea of drawing for money got lodged in my head and attached itself to the North American Work Hard ideology. I believed that if I worked super hard to learn to draw, I could make and sell my work and thus make a living.

This sent me into a compulsive, ungratifying, expensive and losing race where I tried to outpace myself. I wanted to be an illustrator for all the wrong reasons, simultaneously killing my creativity because seeking what would sell, I went through many classes, techniques, and materials. It felt like an endless pit. When I finally had my break illustrating for a real client, I didn’t enjoy the process at all.

I should’ve known then and there I was not meant to do client work, but I persisted because of the North American mindset: don’t give up, keep going, etc.

Desperate I tried to “find my style” by force. I gobbled all content about style while trying to sell stuff. I felt desperate when I saw videos of people “packing orders”, or doing Story artwork sales and seeing how things flew off the shelves. I watched videos titled “How I Make a Living as a Full-time Artist”.

Then came a point when I felt so low and like such a failure I wanted to abandon everything, but I knew if I didn’t have my art sessions my well-being would suffer immensely.

What I knew then and have confirmed again and again is: that happiness envelops me when I feel no pressure to create something that pleases someone else.

Anthropological Research

On my bookshelves, in my old Tumblr, and even in my oldest Pinterest boards, there is not one ounce of commercial art, surface pattern, colourful characters, or children’s illustration. In my paper archives where I keep postcards and magazine clippings I find works by Vilhelm Hammershøi, renaissance paintings, black and white photographs, neutral and muted palettes and a ton of imagery depicting solitude and intimacy. Why then were my sketchbooks full of flowers, food, and patterns?

Ah yes, I wanted to make art that sells.