Miss Daisy Drawing

Tag: drawing

  • Stop Switching Mediums — This Is Why Your Style Hasn’t Formed

    Hello everyone, I’m Daisy. Welcome to my channel. And we’re tackling a question every art lover wants to solve, but most people have no idea where to even begin: How do you develop your own art style?

    In this passage, I’m going to break down why the real starting point of your personal style is actually much simpler than you think—it begins with choosing the art mediums that truly suit you.

    If any of these sound familiar—You bought tons of art supplies but half of them are now collecting dust…You’ve taken multiple art classes but your style still feels unstable…Or you start doubting your talent halfway through a drawing…Then you really need to watch this video. I’m going to break down, through the lens of artistic medium how personal style actually forms.

    1. Your art style doesn’t start from talent—it starts from your Medium

    Many beginners, and even people who’ve been drawing for years, assume that personal style comes from “talent,” “a refined aesthetic,” or “professional training.” But here’s the truth: none of these create your style. There are many worldwide rural female artists.—women who grew up in rural areas only started making art in their 60s and 70s. They never received formal art education. Yet their work is recognized worldwide.

    Is it because of “talent”?“Aesthetic taste”?“Professional training”?No. Today I want to share a secret about developing personal style: The real beginning of your Art style is the medium you choose—the medium, the track you decide to run on.

    2. Medium: the physical foundation of your style

    Every artistic style is built on the physical characteristics of the materials. This is the material origin of style. The graininess of graphite and charcoal, the fluid unpredictability of watercolor,
    the sculptural thickness of oil and acrylic… Try this experiment:

    • Draw the exact same line using a pencil, watercolor, and a marker.
      They all look completely different.
    • Change the paper—from rough to smooth—and your entire texture changes.
    • A flat brush and a round brush create totally different motions and marks.
    • Watercolor will never achieve the thickness of oils, and oils can’t imitate watercolor’s lightness.

    From paint to brushes to your preferred colors—your personal style grows directly out of your preferred medium.

    Why do some people draw for ten years but still have no style?

    Because they never commit to one particular Medium. Watercolor today, acrylic tomorrow, iPad next month…It looks like exploration, but in reality they’re stuck in an eternal beginner’s loop. It’s just like switching careers— Every time you change industries, the vocabulary, networks, workflow… all reset. There’s a saying: “Switch jobs, struggle for six months. Switch industries, struggle for three years.” That’s exactly what happens with art medium. If you keep changing mediums, your visual language resets over and over. No matter how long you’ve been drawing, if you haven’t stayed with one medium long enough to go deep, your style simply can’t emerge.

    So, How to find the art medium that’s right for you?You can check the pinned comment below for my earlier video, where I shared how to find the art medium that truly suits you.

    Or you can Ask yourself three questions:

    1. Which tool makes you feel the happiest, most relaxed, and naturally immersed?

    Choosing a medium is not about choosing difficulty—it’s about choosing excitement and flow. Your emotional response matters more than technical skill. If you pick up watercolor and suddenly don’t want to stop, or a marker makes you feel like you’ve unlocked a cheat code— that’s your track.

    2. Which medium makes you feel you want to keep drawing for a month, three months, six months, a year, ten years?

    Style comes from long-term accumulation. You need a medium you’re willing to commit to. What you can stay with consistently is what will eventually become your style.

    3. Most importantly: what texture do you love the most?

    Mediums are an external expression of personality.

    • People who love pencils and colored pencils often enjoy grain, detail, and subtlety.
    • Watercolor lovers tend to enjoy freedom, spontaneity, and transparency.
    • Oil paint lovers usually appreciate depth, weight, and tradition.
    • Those who gravitate toward Chinese ink painting often carry an affinity for Eastern aesthetics.
    • Marker, technical pen, and iPad users often enjoy clarity, speed, and modernity.

    When your personality aligns with the character of your medium, your style will naturally show up, no matter what you paint.

    Lastly ,When you commit to a medium your art style appears automatically

    You don’t need to force yourself to “become someone with a style.” If you stick to the same medium long enough: Your lines become consistent. Your color tendencies stabilize. Your recurring shapes and marks form a pattern. And your visual logic becomes recognizable. 

    These repeated decisions become your style. That is what makes your art uniquely yours.

    I’m Daisy, helping you decode the deeper logic behind art and unlock your creative potential. If you enjoy this kind of content, feel free to like, subscribe, and leave a comment. You’re also welcome to share your own idea or experience about drawing or art below.

  • Why Artists Must Stay True to Themselves?

    I’ve always loved creating content that sparks inspiration and deeper thinking. For a long time, I kept asking myself one question: Why must artists stay true to who they are?

    And it wasn’t until I watched Chinese American figure skater Alysa Liu perform at the Winter Olympics—and learned more about her journey—that I found the answer again: artists have to be themselves.

    At 14, she became the youngest women’s singles champion in the history of the U.S. National Championships. In 2020, she won again—two consecutive titles. And in 2022, right after finishing her Olympic dream, she suddenly announced her retirement at just 16. Probably the youngest person to retire in history.
    Her reason? She wanted a completely different life.

    After stepping away from skating, she went to college, attended concerts, got her driver’s license, took road trips, and enjoyed her first real vacation. She tried skiing, snowboarding—things she never had the chance to experience during years of intense training. During this unexpected “pause,” she rediscovered her true passions: “I love art. I love dancing. I love music. I love sports. Figure skating is the combination of all of them.” She said. 

    When she returned to the ice, the first thing she did was “fire” her father from supervising her training. She told her team she would choose her own costumes and pick her own music. Her Olympic performance wasn’t just a showcase of techniques—it was a living, breathing soul expressing her love for skating, for art, and for life itself.

    That is the essence of art, music, and sports: Technique is the form. Emotion is the soul.

    Why is it so hard for many people to “be themselves”?

    Modern education plays a huge role in this process. Modern education was built in the industrial age to create standardized workers—punctual, obedient, easy to instruct, and easy to replace. From childhood, we’re told to fit in, behave, avoid trouble, and follow the rules. In essence, it’s a system of discipline.

    When someone lacks autonomy and simply follows instructions—studying because they’re told to study, working because they must work—they become like a machine.

    Before Alysa Liu’s break, Alysa trained because she had to train. Just like many of us go to school because we’re told to, or study just to work.

    We rarely stop to ask: What do these things actually mean to me?

    And without inner motivation, true creation becomes extremely difficult. In art—or any field that requires imagination and expression—if your soul isn’t present, your work becomes empty, blurry, and powerless.

    The artists remembered throughout history were never “normal.”

    From Vincent van Gogh, Paul Gauguin, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dalí
    to contemporary creators like Jean-Michel Basquiat, performance artist Marina Abramović, music legends Madonna and Lady Gaga and so on. 

    None of them were “normal.” They stood out precisely because of their fierce individuality and their refusal to be tamed. Their work carries a soul that cannot be replicated.

    They became great because they chose to be themselves—not because they tried to be ordinary.

    Staying true to yourself is an artist’s lifelong homework

    If you want to create art that carries your own temperament and soul, you must stay true to who you are. And yes—this is, in a way, an act of resistance against being disciplined by society.

    The more you try to please others, the more you care about evaluations and trends, the more your art loses its core. But staying true to yourself does not mean rejecting learning or refusing growth. It doesn’t mean acting recklessly under the excuse of “finding yourself.” It means that no matter what pressures surround you, you don’t lose your own voice or your own thinking.

    It means being willing to trade short-term comfort for long-term goals—to invest your time, energy, and focus into what truly matters.

    Even if the road is long and lonely, you keep walking in your direction. Because deep down, you know: Every hardship shapes you. Every bit of persistence will bloom someday.

    Staying true to yourself becomes a silent, powerful force

    Being yourself is hard. You’ll face doubt, loneliness, misunderstanding, criticism, failure, and lack of recognition. But these experiences help you grow, help you refine your voice, and help you discover who you really are.

    Your exploration, your struggles, and your reflections all become part of your artistic language. Over time, the independence, resilience, patience, and faith forged along the way turn into an invisible force—one that quietly moves the people who see your work.

    For artists, staying true to yourself is a form of art.

    Through drawing, music, performance, and movement, we are transmitting our feelings, our perspectives, and the value of our unique existence. And even in the rising wave of AI, this inner strength—the insistence on being fully human—will keep us from losing our direction. It will remain your core competitive power, and your long-term value.

    I’m Daisy, someone who loves creating and sharing art. If you enjoy my content, feel free to like, subscribe, and leave a comment. Tell me your thoughts about art—I’d love to hear them.

  • Do You REALLY Need References to Learn Drawing?

    Today I want to talk about a question almost every art lover has asked at some point — and one many parents wonder about when their kids start learning art: Do we really need to use references? Do we actually need to draw from an object? If you have such questions, you need to keep reading. What I’m sharing comes from decades of drawing and learning, and I hope this video can bring some inspirations on this topic. Without further ado, let’s start it. 

    First, Drawing is a visual language — and every language needs input

    Drawing is not just technique; it’s a form of visual expression, a visual language. And to learn any language, you need input.

    To learn writing, you start with words, sentences, reading. To learn music, you start with notes, rhythm, melody. To learn drawing, you need to understand visual vocabulary and the objects you’re drawing.

    Every time we draw something from observation, the coordination between “eye and hand” helps us understand the subject far more deeply than simply looking at it. Drawing is a tool that sharpens how we observe and understand the world.

    Take trees, for example. Nature gives us thousands of tree varieties — different leaves, different trunks, different silhouettes. The more we observe and record, the richer our visual vocabulary becomes. The richer the vocabulary, the more alive our artwork becomes.

    Good practice is not just about copying objects; it’s also about finding creative ways to express them. Many beginners get stuck on the question: “How can I make my drawing look realistic?” But in the context of contemporary art, that is actually the wrong goal.

    The purpose of using references is to train your ability to see. The purpose of learning art is to express your own interpretation — even when everyone is looking at the same object or the same landscape. This process builds your aesthetic judgment and your ability to think independently.

    Second. Using references is not “copying” — it’s intentional training

    In a world where phone cameras are already hyper-realistic and AI can generate images instantly, the meaning of drawing is not to replicate what we see. What we really want is to express our feelings and ideas through visual language. Here are three ways to train that ability:

    Number 1. Structure, perspective, and lighting matter, but don’t let them restrict you

    Don’t be too harsh on yourself about accuracy. I often see drawings by kids or older hobbyists that aren’t technically precise, yet you can feel their pure love for art in every line. That raw sincerity carries emotional power that perfect realism sometimes lacks.

    Number 2. Build your visual vocabulary through lots of quick sketches

    Back to the tree example: Real trees come in endless forms, but in many artworks, trees are drawn with the same formula.

    Instead of copying someone else’s tree, why not explore your own? Experiment with different lines, shapes, rhythms, and colors. When you can draw a “tree that belongs to you,” you’ve truly developed expressive ability.

    Number 3. Think before you draw — the idea comes first

    In traditional Chinese painting, there’s a guiding principle called “yi zai bi xian” — which means your intention should come before the brush. Whether you’re writing, drawing, or creating any kind of artwork, the idea is to fully form your vision before you put down the first stroke.

    This principle applies to all mediums we use today — watercolor, oil, acrylic, and more. Whenever we face a subject or a scene that inspires us, we should pause and ask ourselves: Does this scene feel warm or lonely? Lively or quiet?

    Once we understand what we truly want to express, elements like line, color, and composition naturally become our tools — not constraints. At that moment, we’re no longer just someone holding a brush; we’re more like conductors, guiding different instruments and voices to create a piece of art with real life in it.

    Working this way means every painting carries our personal interpretation and thought process. And over time, this approach also helps us shape a style that’s uniquely our own.

    Lastly . Abstraction requires foundations — abstract work without thought has no life

    At this point you might be wondering: “There are so many abstract artworks today. Can’t I skip observational drawing and jump straight into abstraction?”

    This question is especially common in children’s art education. Some parents want to “develop creativity,” for their children through drawing. So they avoid letting kids draw from objects. They are afraid that it will limit imagination. But this is actually the opposite of how creativity grows.

    Abstraction and realism aren’t opposites. Abstraction is the refined essence of realism.

    A strong abstract artwork comes from long-term training in: shape and structure, spatial understanding, rhythm and visual organization, color and form language. 

    It’s the artist’s sharp perception of the real world that gives abstraction intention, logic, and emotional resonance — not random color splashes.

    If you skip the foundational observational stage, “abstract art” easily becomes random marks on paper. It may look free, but it’s hollow. It may look expressive, but lacks depth. It lacks visual logic, internal structure, and emotional meaning.

    As many masters have shown us: Understand the world first. Then create your own. Realism is the foundation. Abstraction is the elevation. Realism helps you see. Abstraction helps you express.

    So, I believe you’ve already have your own idea now. Do we need references when it comes to draw? Yes — but not for copying. References help us understand the world. But the ultimate purpose of drawing is emotional expression.

    Our relationship with the reference object is not about “copying.” It’s about borrowing —borrowing nature, objects, visual language —to express what we truly want to communicate.

    I’m Daisy, an artist who loves observing, drawing, and sharing.
    If you enjoyed this passafe, feel free to like, subscribe, or leave a comment.
    You’re also welcome to share your thoughts on art — I’d love to hear them. 

  • 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.