There’s a myth that great art comes from sudden bursts of inspiration — that the artist waits for a lightning strike of creativity, and the work flows effortlessly from there. But the truth is, most of the time, art is born from something much simpler and far more difficult: showing up.
I can’t count how many times I’ve stood in front of a canvas, feeling like there’s nothing left to give. The colours don’t make sense, the shapes clash, and the piece feels lifeless. It’s easy to walk away, to tell yourself you’ll try again tomorrow when the muse decides to grace you with her presence. But that’s not how the work gets done.
Art doesn’t happen in moments of divine clarity — it happens in the quiet struggle. It’s in the hours spent wrestling with a piece that refuses to come together, in the decision to pick up the brush even when doubt creeps in. The breakthrough doesn’t arrive because you waited for it; it shows up because you did.
And then, one day, you step back and realize: this is it. The thing you fought for, the piece you almost abandoned, has finally come alive.
The magic isn’t in the inspiration; it’s in the persistence. It’s in trusting that the act of creating will eventually lead you somewhere, even if you can’t see the destination right away. And when that moment comes — when the work clicks and you feel that immersion, that unexplainable flow — it’s a reminder of why you never gave up.
If you’re in the middle of your own creative struggle, keep going. Open the document, pick up the brush, sit down with the work. Not because it’s easy, but because what you’re creating deserves the chance to exist. And sometimes, all it needs is for you to show up.