Miss Daisy Drawing

Tag: drawing

  • How Does People-Pleasing Hold Back Your Artistic Growth?

    In my previous passages, I talked a lot about the connection between drawing, psychology, and neuroscience. Today, I want to continue that conversation and dive into another psychological pattern that quietly—but seriously—holds many artists back: people-pleasing.

    This is a struggle I dealt with for years. If you’re constantly dissatisfied with your work, switching styles all the time, or always chasing the kind of art you think others will like, this video may help you understand the true root of your frustration.

    In this passage, I’ll explain the link between people-pleasing and drawing through three lenses: your psychological mechanisms, your behavioral patterns, and the visual language that shows up in your artwork.

    What Exactly Is People-Pleasing?

    People-pleasing is basically a mindset where you put your own needs aside to avoid conflict, get approval, and keep the peace in your relationships. It usually comes from growing up with emotionally unstable parents, a strict or repressive home, or parents who only gave love and approval if you met certain conditions.

    Typical signs include: Ignoring your true feelings, Struggling to say no, Being extremely sensitive to other people’s reactions, Fear of conflict and overvaluing harmony, Relying on external validation to feel good. One compliment can make your whole day—while a single negative comment can crush you for a week.

    If we summarize people-pleasing in one sentence, it’s this:

    “I must meet other people’s expectations in order to be accepted.”

    In art, that becomes:

    “What will others think?” comes before “What do I want to express?” This mindset affects everything: your artistic motivation, aesthetic judgment, style development, and even your long-term confidence as a creator.

    So, How does People-Pleasing relate to Your Art

    1. Constantly switching styles and losing your authentic voice

    People-pleasers tend to deny their own choices. They study a style, mimic it, master it, then abandon it and move on to another one. Their technical skills grow fast, but their personal style never stabilizes.

    2. Choosing “safe” topics that will get praise

    To earn approval, they prefer drawing subjects that feel universally liked—pretty girls, cute pets, landscapes—while avoiding anything subjective, experimental, strange, or potentially misunderstood. They suppress their true artistic desires in exchange for being liked. This problem is especially common among women, simply because women are often taught—more than men—to be agreeable, well-behaved, and sensitive to others’ expectations.

    3. Perfectionism and harsh self-criticism

    People-pleasers tend to erase and redraw repeatedly, fear showing their work, and get deeply affected by likes and comments. They may create many pieces yet still feel “not good enough” and wonder if they “lack talent.”

    4. People-pleasing visual language

    People-pleasing doesn’t just affect your mind—it shows up in your visual decisions: Art made from a people-pleasing mindset often shows up directly in the visuals:

    the lines tend to be light, hesitant, or repeatedly traced;

    the composition usually places the subject small, pushed into a corner, avoiding the center, with an overall conservative layout.

    In terms of color, you’ll often see soft, low-saturation tones and a fear of using heavy colors like black or anything too bright or intense.

    All these visual traits are essentially reflections of the creator’s inner hesitation, uncertainty, and withdrawal.”

    Why People-Pleasing Can Be Really Damaging to Our Creativity?

    First, it drains our creativity and our willingness to take risks. When we’re constantly worried about how others see us or how they’ll judge our work, we stop expressing ourselves honestly. We play it safe. Our thinking becomes narrow, our imagination shrinks, and we slowly lose that sense of boldness and absurdity that makes art truly alive.

    Second, it suppresses the development of our own artistic style. A personal style is essentially a unique mix of our experiences, preferences, emotions, and the way we perceive the world. But people-pleasing creators focus so much on external approval that they ignore their internal voice. They keep adjusting themselves to fit other people’s expectations — which makes it impossible to settle into a style that’s genuinely their own.

    And third, people-pleasing makes us more prone to burnout. Every piece we create triggers self-doubt. We waste huge amounts of time trying different directions just to avoid making the “wrong” choice. Under the pressure of comparison and the fear of disappointing others, even something we once loved becomes harder to sustain.

    So with all that said, how do we change our people-pleasing tendencies? How do we shift from creating to please others to creating as a form of true self-expression?

    First, people-pleasing creativity is essentially externally driven — we’re constantly pulled around by other people’s feedback. To break out of that pattern, we have to reclaim our own agency and move from external motivation to internal motivation.

    I draw because I enjoy it. I draw to understand myself. I draw to explore new possibilities. I draw because it’s how I express who I am. Our creative purpose should always come from within, not from how others evaluate us.

    Second, when you’re making art, try not to obsessively correct every “wrong” line. Maybe one stroke is off, maybe a patch of color didn’t go as planned, maybe the subject doesn’t look perfectly accurate — but none of that really matters in the final piece. Sometimes the imperfect lines, the mistakes, even the “not-so-realistic” parts carry a kind of raw vitality. Many people actually love those imperfect attempts.

    What really matters is finding people who vibe with your work, instead of polishing yourself endlessly to make others like you.

    Self-doubt and perfectionism are the two major battles people-pleasers must overcome in the creative process.

    Finally, step boldly out of your comfort zone. Try subjects you’ve never drawn before, colors you’ve never used, compositions you’ve never attempted. Experiment with new mediums, make messy sketches, create things with no goal at all. These don’t need to become finished artworks, and you don’t have to show them to anyone. Just quietly observe: What did I learn from these experiments? Which attempts give power to my creative voice?

    The purpose of creating is self-exploration, self-expression, and self-growth —not to submit our work like an exam waiting for others to grade.

    People-pleasing only starts to fade when we understand and accept that it’s normal — and not a big deal — if others don’t like us. That’s when we truly reclaim our own sense of self.”

    I Hope you find this video helpful. If you enjoy my content, feel free to like, subscribe, and leave a comment. You’re also welcome to share your own thoughts on art in the comment section.

  • Why Courage Is More Important Than Skill in Drawing?

    Today, I want to talk about something absolutely crucial in learning how to draw—yet most people completely overlook it. When it comes to drawing, learning to be brave is far more important than learning techniques. Many people think drawing is all about skill, but in reality, art is largely a psychological game.

    Have you ever noticed this?

    You watch countless tutorials, practice technique after technique…and still, your drawing doesn’t improve the way you hoped. You still don’t dare to create boldly. Behind all of this hides one deeply overlooked issue: our fear of the unknown.

    When we sit in front of a blank sheet of paper, we freeze. We panic. We don’t know where to start. Today, I want to show you how to understand this fear—and how to solve it.

    First, “fear of the unknown” is actually a very common psychological response. It’s directly connected to the amygdala, the part of the brain responsible for emotions and danger detection. When we face something unfamiliar, unpredictable, or out of our control, the amygdala activates and throws us into a “run away” mode—even when there is no real danger at all.

    In short: we fear things whose outcomes we cannot predict or control.

    In drawing, this fear shows up in many ways:

    You don’t dare start.
    You worry you’ll ruin the page.
    You avoid drawing at all.
    You chase perfection and feel crushed when your art doesn’t match your expectations.

    All of this has nothing to do with skill. It’s a psychological defense mechanism.

    So—how do we overcome this fear of the unknown?

    The truth is, this isn’t something you can flip like a switch. You overcome it by understanding it, breaking it down, living with it, and slowly weakening its power through small, consistent actions. And this applies not only to drawing, but also to writing, content creation, and any creative field.

    Here are three ways to begin:

    Number 1. Start with action.

    Don’t wait until you “feel ready.” You will never feel fully ready. The only thing that defeats your fear is putting down the first line. Once you make the first mark, the second and third will follow. Every beautiful artwork begins as an ugly, messy sketch.

    Number 2. Start with exploration.

    Exploration itself is a form of courage. Try different mediums, themes, colors, and compositions. Many breakthroughs happen by accident—through experimentation. Only by exploring can you turn the unknown into something familiar.

    Number 3, Start with self-compassion.

    Strict education teaches us to avoid mistakes and chase perfection, which turns into self-doubt. From today forward, I want you to practice being kind to yourself. Just because a drawing didn’t turn out well, or a project didn’t succeed, does not mean you lack talent. No one becomes great in a single attempt. It sounds cliché, but it is absolutely true.

    If you feel stuck in your art—or afraid to start anything you truly want to do—it’s not because you are not good enough. It’s because you’re too harsh on yourself, and too afraid of the unknown and the possibility of failure.

    So from today on, give yourself a little more courage.

    I’m Daisy, a storyteller who records and shares art. If you enjoy my content, feel free like, subscribe, and leave a comment. And share with me—how do you deal with fear in your creative process?

  • What Should You Do With Your “Bad” Drawings?

    Today, I want to talk about a problem every artist has faced at some point: what should you do with the drawings you dislike—the ones that look “ugly,” messy, or like total failures? Should you throw them away? Or hide them in a drawer to collect dust?

    I want to share three practical ways to deal with these drawings that seem worthless at first glance.

    First, don’t rush to throw them out. They are far more valuable than you think.
    We often demand perfection from ourselves. When a drawing turns out “bad,” our first reaction is to trash it. But in reality, these imperfect works are the most honest record of your progress. Do you think great artists never made terrible work? Van Gogh’s rough sketches, Picasso’s failed attempts—many of them survived, and today they are key to understanding their artistic growth. The drawings you dislike right now will one day become important evidence of your evolving style, color instincts, and line habits.

    Second, use mixed media to transform the old piece into something new.
    Paint over it, collage on top, layer new lines—try bold compositions and visual experiments on the old surface. This saves paper, of course, but more importantly, it gives you a pressure-free playground to explore. The traces underneath will become part of the painting’s memory, and with a relaxed mindset, you might create something surprisingly fresh.

    Third, review your work—don’t just reject it.

    Many people see a bad drawing and immediately think: “Maybe I have no talent.” But most of the time, what we lack is not talent—it’s the ability to evaluate ourselves. Ask yourself three simple questions:

    1. What actually worked in this piece? Composition? Color? Line quality?
    2. What part am I unhappy with? What went wrong?
    3. How can I improve next time, and what specific method will I use?

    Once you shift from emotional judgment to analytical reflection, your art begins to grow in a real, meaningful way.

    How we treat our “bad” drawings is often how we treat life.

    Every day, we face choices, mistakes, and imperfect outcomes. Do we avoid them, erase them, and pretend they didn’t happen? Or do we pause, reflect, and understand why things went wrong? Each unsatisfying drawing is a mirror. It reminds us that imperfections and wrong turns are not failures—they are gateways to a clearer understanding of ourselves.

    To summarize:
    Keep your imperfect works—they reveal your growth.
    Paint over them—use mixed media to experiment bravely.
    Review them—break problems down into steps you can improve.

    I’m Daisy, a storyteller who records and shares art. If you enjoy my content, feel free like, subscribe, and leave a comment. And share me: how do you deal with your unsatisfying drawings?

  • What Art Teaches Us That School Never Will

    There’s a common belief that studying art is a waste of time. Have you ever heard someone say, ‘Studying art is useless? In the end, you’ll only be teaching it to others in a training class’? I started a bachelor’s degree in management and then a master’s in fine arts, and along the way, I discovered some deep truths about art that no one ever talks about.

    I’m not trying to change your opinion about art; I just hope that by reading this, you can discover the meaning of learning art for yourself.

    First, most people don’t realize—and textbooks will never tell us—that painting and art have actually supported the development of modern society. I don’t want to repeat the usual phrases like “art improves your aesthetic sense” or “enhances your observation skills.” I want to show you how artistic movements, sometimes seeming far removed from daily life, have repeatedly driven societal change, influenced technology, design, and thought, and even shaped the course of human civilization.

    Did you know?

    160 years ago Impressionism opened up modern visual language and changed the way people see the world. By introducing the concept of “fleeting light and color,” Impressionists transformed how we experience painting—it’s not just about realism anymore, it’s about feeling. This shift influenced photography, film cinematography, advertising, and lighting design.

    100 years ago The Bauhaus movement in Germany emphasis on functionalism, minimalism, and geometric forms shaped industrial product design, furniture, architecture, and even city planning. The objects we use every day, our homes, and our modern sense of aesthetics all owe a lot to this movement.

    70 years ago Pop Art brought elite art into everyday life, creating mass culture and a visual language for the consumer age. Andy Warhol and Pop Art brought commercial visuals into the art world, influencing advertising, packaging, and popular culture—and shaping the era of brands and consumerism.

    Think about it: the choices we make in daily life—our phones, furniture, cars, appliances, clothing, even product packaging—are all influenced, consciously or unconsciously, by these artistic movements. If you want to understand how modern art has shaped human society, you could fill a whole book and still barely scratch the surface.

    Second, no other subject teaches you to challenge authority and create your own language like painting does. Many people who haven’t studied art assume, “Painting is just making something look like the real thing.” But this idea was overturned over 200 years ago. Modern art is no longer about replication—it’s a tool for questioning rules, breaking conventions, and inventing new forms of expression.

    Francis Bacon once wrote in The Advancement of Learning:

    “History makes a man wise; poetry makes him witty; mathematics makes him precise; natural philosophy makes him deep; ethical studies make him grave; and logic and rhetoric make him able to contend.”

    Today, painting gives us the space to challenge authority visually and create new languages. If most school subjects teach standardized answers and demand conformity, painting does the opposite—it allows you to be different, and you will never be the same as anyone else.

    People often criticize art because they’re used to uniformity and afraid of individuality.

    Third, art is a medium for self-exploration and emotional expression.

    I often say that painting isn’t just a professional art—it’s also a kind of play, and even a form of therapy. When we paint, it helps us ease anxiety, calm our worries, and release stress. Painting isn’t just about technique; it’s a way to explore ourselves.

    Especially in today’s fast-paced, technology-driven world, where anyone could face uncertainty or job instability, scrolling through videos or chasing consumerism isn’t enough—we need a way to process and soothe our emotions. Painting satisfies our creative urges, goes beyond pure utilitarianism and Materialism provides deep spiritual fulfillment. It’s an essential part of the human experience, making our life richer, meaningful, and more human.

    If you haven’t yet experienced these three incredible aspects of painting, now is the perfect time to discover the true magic of art.

    I Hope you find this content helpful. If you enjoy my content, feel free to like, subscribe, and leave a comment. You’re also welcome to share your own thoughts on art in the comment section.

  • 3 Practical Tips to Select Your Ideal Art Medium

    In my last content, How to Discover Your Unique Artistic Style I talked about how to find your own artistic style. Today, I want to continue that conversation and tackle a challenge almost every art lover faces: How do you choose the right art medium for yourself?

    Many art lovers switch mediums every once for a while. You spend some time with acrylics, then fall in love with watercolor. You practice watercolor for a while, then suddenly the iPad looks very tempting. This constant switching can become one of the biggest obstacles to developing a stable and recognizable artistic style.

    And this isn’t just a beginner problem. Even trained art students experience this.
    Oil painters fall in love with the texture of ink. Watercolor students discover printmaking and never look back. Switching mediums isn’t wrong. In fact, choosing your medium is a journey of self-understanding.

    Your personality, your temperament, and your preferences—all of these are hidden in the style you are about to create. 

    So today, I want to share three practical methods to help you choose a medium that truly fits you.

    First. Explore widely before you decide.

    Do not judge yourself “I’m not good at it” before you’ve even tried. The sensory experience each medium gives you is the most honest indicator of whether it fits you.

    Spend some time exploring different mediums: graphite, colored pencils, watercolor, markers, oil pastels, acrylic, soft pastels, ink—anything you can find.

    Pay attention to the experience: the bold colors of acrylic, the fluid unpredictability of watercolor, the tactile texture of graphite, the soft, dreamy feel of pastels. 

    Try them systematically, and document how each one makes you feel. After exploring, choose the medium that creates effects you love and one you naturally handle well.

    Second. Start with the medium you feel most comfortable with.

    Your medium doesn’t have to be expensive or trendy. It just needs to be something you can easily pick up every day—a pencil, a basic watercolor set, or acrylic on canvas.

    The more familiar you become with your medium, the easier it is to stay consistent. And consistency—not expensive supplies—is what separates amateurs from artists.

    Growth comes from steady practice, reflection, and understanding the materials in your hands.

    Lastly. iPad drawing is an extension—not a replacement.

    Digital drawing is powerful. It combines the expressive possibilities of traditional mediums with modern convenience. But for beginners, the endless options—brushes, textures, layers—can be overwhelming.

    And no matter how advanced digital tools are, they cannot fully replace the tactile, physical textures of traditional mediums.

    So if you’re new to drawing, or if you want to build a unique artistic voice, traditional mediums remain the best training ground.

    I often find connections between drawing and life—how they influence and mirror each other. I hope sharing these reflections can inspire you and your own creative journey.

  • How to Discover Your Unique Artistic Style

    If you love drawing, or you’ve just started learning it, you might find yourself constantly switching between different mediums—colored pencils, watercolor, the iPad, and so on. Your subjects may jump from portraits to landscapes to small everyday objects. If this sounds familiar, you need to read this article. What I’m sharing today is the result of decades of learning art and falling into countless traps along the way. This passage can easily save you ten years of detours.

    For Many beginners—or even hobbyists who have been drawing for a while—will face the same struggle: when you look at other artists’ work, you feel genuinely envious of their unique styles. Some artworks feel wildly imaginative, some are incredibly powerful in color, some tell strong stories, some show amazing technical skill. Some pieces look simple, yet feel warm and comforting. All of them have something special—something that makes us pause and admire. That “special something” is the artist’s style.

    So, how do you develop your own artistic style? Almost every creator asks this question. But here’s what you need to know: style isn’t something you can “think” your way into. You can fabricate a style through shortcuts, but you’ll quickly get bored of it and abandon what you made up. A lasting, authentic style requires exploration and trial and error. It emerges naturally from long-term creation, shaped by your interests, your personality, and your life experiences.

    So, how do you actually find your style?

    First, style doesn’t start with technique—it starts with preference. Begin with the medium you love most or feel most comfortable with. Starting today, pay attention to what draws you in: the fluid unpredictability of watercolor, the texture of colored pencils, and so on. Notice which subjects feel most natural to draw, and what you want to express through them. The things that repeatedly show up in your work—that’s your preference.

    Second, don’t rush to be “original.” Most artists’ styles begin through imitation. Imitation isn’t stealing—it’s part of learning the language of art. Copy the use of color, brushwork, or composition of the artists you admire. Even when you imitate, you’ll discover that part of the work still carries something uniquely yours. That “irreplaceable difference” is the seed of your style.

    Third, you need volume. Style doesn’t come from thinking—it comes from making. With ten pieces, it’s hard to see any pattern. With a hundred, patterns start to appear. With a thousand, your style will grow on its own. All the imperfect pieces, ugly sketches, and failed attempts—they’re all part of the puzzle. Quantity pushes you toward quality.

    Fourth, your style comes from your life. Your travels, the music you listen to, the movies you watch, the books you read, the emotions you’ve experienced, the pain and joy you’ve gone through—all of these shape the way you understand the world. The richer your life becomes, the more unique your expression will be. Art isn’t a stack of techniques—it’s a concentration of experiences. Your unique life experiences and personal insights will naturally show up in your artwork. 

    Fifth, style takes time—and patience. Don’t chase a style too quickly by forcing special effects or gimmicks. A manufactured style is fragile and won’t last. True style is something you can’t escape from, even when you’re not trying. It shows up in your unconscious choices, in the marks that grow naturally over the years.

    The way we find our artistic style mirrors the way we find our path in life. First, record yourself frequently. Observe your interests and tendencies to identify your real preferences. Second, look for people you admire—whether they’re celebrities, artists, or business leaders—and learn from how they think and act. Third, there are no shortcuts in life. Only through trial and error can you gradually get closer to your true direction. Lastly, discovering yourself takes time. Some people have strong support—good education or financial stability—but most of us must rely on persistence and effort. Flowers don’t bloom overnight. And once you find your path, you need patience and conviction to stay on it.

  • Will AI Replace Painting? 

    Make sure you watch this content to the end — it might completely change the way you see AI, and it might even reveal a new career path for you.

    Recently, I watched a talk where the well-known contemporary artist Xu Bing discussed the impact of AI on painting. After watching it, I was genuinely excited — and honestly a little honored — to realize that many of my thoughts align closely with his.

    So today, I want to take you deeper into this question: Will AI replace painting?

    My answer is: Yes… and No.

    Let’s start with Yes.

    If we define painting simply as “image generation,” then AI can absolutely do that — faster, cheaper, with more styles, and with endless variation.

    When painting is reduced to pure “visual production,” AI is incomparable. It can generate a stunning image in just a few seconds.

    In this sense, AI will replace forms of painting that rely mainly on technical skill and execution. Commercial illustration, game concept art, environment design, poster drafts, character development — AI is already taking over most of the basic production work.

    And in fact, that was one of the original intentions behind AI: to free humans from repetitive labor.

    Now let’s talk about the No.

    If we understand painting as a form of expression, a way of thinking, a process of interacting with the world — then AI can never replace human beings.

    First, emotionally.

    Painting, music, dance — these art forms are fundamental to what separates humans from animals. They come from our need to explore emotion, experience, and meaning.

    We are born wanting to express ourselves. Painting is one of the ways we externalize our inner world, and as long as humans exist, this impulse will exist.

    Why do we cry, or feel moved, or feel awe in front of certain artworks?
    Because in the image, in the brushstrokes, in the texture of the pigment, we can sense the artist’s living experience — their emotions, insights, confusion, curiosity, and exploration.

    This is something AI cannot achieve, even at its peak. Work with a human heartbeat, human perspective, and human worldview… still belongs only to humans.

    Second, initiative

    Yes, AI can generate the visuals we need for commercial work — the illustrations and concepts I mentioned earlier. But a human still has to decide the scene, the character traits, the aesthetic direction, the message, the intention.

    At least for now, AI needs human guidance. Humans remain the creators.

    And what we’re experiencing today is no different from the major technological revolutions in history.Every revolution reshapes labor and industry. Old roles disappear, and new ones emerge.

    In the First Industrial Revolution, handcraft labor declined, and factory workers and railway builders emerged.

    In the Second, horse-powered transport disappeared, replaced by electrical engineers and communication workers.

    In the Third, traditional typesetting and editing declined, replaced by programmers, UI/UX designers, and digital roles.

    And in the Fourth — the AI revolution we are living through — roles like copywriters, basic image producers, and some education jobs are shrinking; while AI trainers, independent “super creators,” and digital-asset professions are emerging.

    If you look closely at each revolution, you’ll notice a pattern:

    Human value keeps shifting upward — from physical labor to skill, to intellectual work, and now to pure creativity and imagination.

    This is why we need to shift our mindset.

    Seeing AI as a threat to human survival only leads to resistance — and that means rejecting the next wave of progress.

    Today’s AI isn’t here to destroy us. It’s a tool that pushes each of us to become more imaginative, more creative, and more initiative.

    And these abilities thrive in artistic practices — painting, music, dance, writing, and every form of creation. So painting will never disappear as long as human exist. 

    If you enjoy my content, feel free to like, subscribe, and comment. You’re also welcome to share your own thoughts and reflections on art in the comments.

    I’m Daisy, a storyteller who records and shares art. I hope my words and drawings inspire your own creative journey.


  • Why Your Sketchbook is More Than Just a Doodle Pad

    A lot of people think a sketchbook is just for doodling or scribbling, but it is far more important than it seems.


    If painting is a form of expression, then a sketchbook is your truest, most unfiltered “visual diary.”

    It is a place that accepts you without conditions. In your sketchbook, you can mess up, draw badly, get proportions wrong, make things look chaotic, or even draw something that looks nothing like what you intended. It won’t judge you. It won’t pressure you. It is like a gentle therapist that quietly receives everything you pour into it.

    So what exactly does a sketchbook do for us?

    First, it helps us record our lives.


    As a “visual diary,” your sketchbook captures your daily ideas, moods, inspirations, and observations. Every stroke and every page carries your personal imprint. Over time, you’ll notice it reveals the parts of you that are hidden deep inside—pieces you may have never expressed before.

    Second, it helps us overcome perfectionism.


    In a sketchbook, you do not need to carry the burden of creating a beautiful, finished artwork. You can fail, experiment, play, and make mistakes. This freedom—free from rules and expectations—releases a tremendous amount of imagination and creativity that perfectionism often suppresses.

    Third, it strengthens our observation and improves our skills.


    Nothing trains your artistic abilities as comprehensively as sketching. A sketchbook is like practicing scales in music; the daily repetitions gradually help you understand and master the “notes” of drawing—line, structure, light, shadow, and color.You stop simply “seeing” and start “understanding”: Where is the light coming from? Why does the hand bend this way? Why does this composition feel balanced? How do these colors interact?Your eye becomes sharper, one sketch at a time.

    And finally, it helps you discover your artistic style.


    All the things you hesitate to try in a polished piece—different lines, quicker strokes, unusual compositions, new ideas—you can explore freely in your sketchbook. Over time, these spontaneous marks reveal your preferences, rhythms, and artistic temperament. This is where your style begins to take shape.

    If you don’t have a sketchbook yet, you might be missing a space where you’re allowed to be imperfect.


    If you already have one, give it more pages, more chances, more of your world.


    As the new year begins, start a sketchbook for yourself. Fill it for a year, and see how much you transform from the first page to the last.

  • How to Start Drawing When You Don’t Know What to Draw

    “Not knowing what to draw” is a problem we often face when painting. For example, you really want to draw, your brush is in your hand, but your mind feels like it’s on pause. Or you search online for references, see a composition that’s too complex, colors that are confusing, and slowly you have no idea where to start.

    What’s really stopping us from putting brush to paper is a subtle worry. It’s like when we want to do something, but before even starting, we imagine all the things that could go wrong. Fear is the worst enemy—fear is our own greatest obstacle.

    Creating is a process of facing the unknown, and it shatters our perfectionism. Especially when we’re just starting out with drawing—or doing anything—imperfection is actually the norm.

    So how do we overcome the “I don’t know what to draw” problem?

    First, change your goal from “making a perfect painting” to “just draw something.”
    You can draw the cup on your desk, the clouds outside your window, your dog doing something silly at home, or even random lines, shapes, or doodles. Just get your hand moving, and let your subconscious and momentum do the rest.

    Second, treat drawing as “recording,” not “producing a masterpiece.”


    Break the big goal of a “finished artwork” into small daily steps. Use drawing like a diary—record the light you see, your mood, the story you want to tell, or flashes of inspiration that suddenly come to you in a sketchbook.

    Third, allow yourself to be imperfect and make mistakes.


    If you can’t draw something, it’s often because you’re trying to get it right in one go—but very few things in this world happen perfectly on the first try. Inspiration isn’t some magical gift; it’s the side effect of accumulation, thinking, and habit. Behind every beautiful, polished artwork, there are often hundreds or thousands of failed attempts.

    So next time you don’t know what to draw, try telling yourself:


    “It’s okay. Just draw something.”


    Even if it turns out wrong or messy, the worst that happens is you waste a sheet of paper.