Procrastination, Art and the Unconscious Mind

There is a saying among artists who I deeply admire, that say, “inspiration is for amateurs.”

Professionals show up everyday and create.

They get to work.

I find this statement to be true, however, I think there is an important nuance that’s worth mentioning.

Not all work on the canvas, involves painting, or action.

Many times the great work is happening in the background—in the periphery of one’s own mind.

There are certain works, I know, I am not meant to “touch” until I am ready—until I am in the right frame of mind and the correct state of being.

Emotion flows into the work.

I am very conscious of how I feel, for I know I will transfer that feeling into what I’m working on.

If I am feeling doubt, insecurity, or anger, frustration—those emotions will go into the work and the work will change.

I have learned to take a break, step back from a painting, move on to another, or begin an entirely new work, where I could capture that emotion without sabotaging the pathway of a previous work.

Personally in motherhood, I am constantly interrupted.

In all honesty, I have not worked consistently on any paintings in quite some time.

As a working artist, I hate this.

And I feel like an imposter.

I feel, not worthy to call myself a working artist.

But, during my time in motherhood, I have discovered, that I am always working, even if I’m not physically adding or subtracting to a piece.

Even when I am not physically doing something, I am still working, because my mind is actively engaging, thinking about work—always.

I am aware of my thoughts and ideas.

I am constantly processing my own emotions—living and accessing my inner world.

I am living life.

All of this, is important work for an artist.

I remember listening to an interview with Paulo Ceohlo, and I remember him saying…(paraphrasing from memory),

“A good writer is a good liver of life.”

An great artist is someone who is lives life.

A creative person must have life experience to pull inspiration and ideas from.

Living is the yin to the hours required in the studio.

I have works that I have not touched, but are standing in my office next to my easel.

Every time I pass it, I look at it, consciously and unconsciously.

I can see the work’s “path” from this perspective—the actual perspective of how one would live with the work.

I can see how the work will continue to evolve in my mind’s eye.

If I worked on the painting, without this way of “seeing,” I risk being out of flow.

I would be working but not listening. I would be dancing but not paying attention.

I would not be fully engaged and fully in tune with what the work, and what it wants to become…

I increase the probability that I’ll re-create something that I’ve already made or seen before.

Lack of prescence and lack of intention is actually how mistakes are made.

They are prelude to regret.

Lately, within the last 3 to 4 years, I have learned to embrace the counterintuitive.

I find myself seeking the opposite.

I want to go where no one else is going.

Not to be a rebel, but to truly discover myself.

This year, 2026, I will move, how I want to move; opposed to how I think the proverbial “others” (whoever that is) expect of me.

If I want to move slow, I shall.

If I want to marinate on my work…longer, I will.

In 2026, I choose to trust myself, and to honor my inner knowing even when it scares me, or runs contrary to general consensus.

In 2026, I am choosing, the path less travelled.