I Remember Why I Began Blogging…

Greetings, It is not uncommon to feel a mix of emotions when it comes to blogging. On one hand, there’s a sense of accomplishment and mental release that comes from creating a blog post. It’s a way to express yourself, share your thoughts and experiences, and engage with others who may resonate with your content. It can be an avenue for personal growth and self-discovery.

However, at times it can also feel overwhelming and challenging. The pressure to consistently create and publish new content can feel like an albatross around your neck. It’s important to remember that blogging should ultimately be a source of enjoyment and fulfillment. For me, it has started to feel like a burden, and I feel like it might be helpful to take a step back and reflect on why I am still doing it.

I remember why I initially began blogging. (365 days of making art & a blog) But now, I don’t know what exactly are my goals or motivations beyond providing an online portfolio? I will admit I’ve often fancied myself as a writer, who hasn’t? Blogging is so personal and difficult because my art is extremely personal. In the beginning it was a challenge to learn to talk about my work in public settings. All these years later I have never mastered standing in front of people sharing personal information that connects viewers to my work or me. I’ve more often found that they’ve connected to my work because it evokes an emotion or memory within themselves. Often those reactions have nothing to do with my own personal experience when I create the art. So, I STILL strongly prefer to leave work untitled and unexplained. But I am digressing. Simply put, In beginnning my intentions with blogging are not why I continue to attempt to blog today.

If I am being totally honest with you the reader and myself, I have created a lot of flowery type pieces of art for the last couple of years, not that there is anything wrong with those works, BUT I’ve been using them to hide from creating art with more “guts and substance”. I need to either discover my purpose for creating blogs and a balancew within creating them, or stop.


Art: I am a prolific creator. If I am not painting on canvas, I am working in Adobe Fresco or Sketchbook, both drawing programs that I really like and use often. I do pay for an upgraded version of Adobe. I need it when I illustrate for a book most often. I use Sketchbook (free version) when I am working on coloring book images or designs for my RedBubble shop . I am not getting reimbursed in any way for mentioning these programs, merely offering my perspective on their usefulness for my work. (and possibly your own)

I have reached a point where I no longer want to let fears and life changes dictate me from blogging and creating art. Embracing fears opens the door for personal growth and the possibility of creating meaningful art. By not facing my fears and being authentic in my art, I stole my own freedom of expression and important connections.

Blogging is a powerful tool for self-expression. If you share your thoughts, experiences, and artistic journey with a wide and interested audience. You may find your own unique voice and use it to inspire and engage your readers. I am not sure I’ve really achieved that as I’d liked to have. Thus, why this may become the end of my blogging journey.


My art IS my form of discovery and emotional release. I learned years ago to allow myself the freedom to explore different techniques, styles, and subjects. I am not afraid to experiment and take risks. The process of creating art is cathartic and therapeutic, helping me to express emotions and my own unique visual language This is my personal journey. Somewhere I’ve given up ownership and hidden from life’s challenges.
But, I am going to work on giving myself permission to accept my mistakes and learn. I am surrounded by supportive family, friends and fellow artists/creatives. Most importantly, I need that reconnection and to FIND MY JOY again. It is my source of joy and fulfillment, it always has been. When I quit pushing forward, I stopped growing. I forgot that my voice deserves to be heard.


Who knows what beautiful and winged life, whose egg has been buried for ages under many concretic layers of woodenness in the dead dry life of society…may unexpectedly come forth…to enjoy its perfect summer life at last!…Such is the character of that morrow which mere lapse of time can never make to dawn…Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star.

Henry David Thoreau

One Comment

  1. Like! Your like button is missing. I’ll have to look into that.