Miss Daisy Drawing

Tag: life

  • How to Find Your Artistic Theme and Your Path in Life

    Screenshot

    In my previous passages, I wrote about how to find your art style and medium. Today, I want to go a little deeper: How do you find your artistic theme — and even your path in life?

    Have you ever had this experience? You pick up your pencils, watercolor whatever the medium is, ready to draw, and suddenly… you don’t know what to draw. You scroll through tons of reference pictures online, but then you start doubting yourself:

    “This looks way too complicated… let me find another one.” “How am I supposed to draw this?”After searching for so long, you still can’t bring yourself to start, and eventually you just give up.  Over time, your love for drawing — maybe even your talent — gets lost in hesitation and confusion.  Sporadic sketches can’t form a real portfolio, and because you don’t see obvious progress, you start to label yourself: “Maybe I’m just not talented.” And slowly, drawing gets pushed into the corner of your life and forgotten.Years later, when you look at other people’s artwork, you’ll remember how much you once loved drawing — and regret that you didn’t stick with it.

    If this sounds familiar, today I want to share a few ways to help you discover your own creative theme.

    Why we get lost — in drawing and in life

    Feeling lost in art is actually the same as feeling lost in life. And most people will experience it.

    From early art classes, we were trained to wait for the teacher to give us a topic, and then we complete the task. Over time, this becomes a habit: Without someone assigning the theme, we don’t know what to draw.

    And it’s not just art — our whole education system is built on “ready-made questions + one correct answer.” Through elementary, middle, and high school, everything follows a fixed path. But once we leave school, we suddenly stand in front of a huge blank space. We don’t know our direction, what we like, or where to go next. We look for a “stable destination,” but forget that:

    Life has never been stable. Those so-called “stable places” are often just cages inside a much larger system. So whether it’s a blank canvas or a blank future, we need to learn to ask ourselves: What do I want to draw? How do I want to express myself? What kind of life do I want? And what steps will take me closer to it?

    So how do you find your artistic theme?

    1. When you don’t know what to draw, look back at what you’ve already created — without guidance, tasks, or expectations.

    Look at the works you made simply because you wanted to — not homework, not assignments, not tasks given by others. Whether it’s ten pieces or a hundred, you’ll start to notice patterns: You’ve already been drawing similar things again and again.

    Maybe it’s portraits, beautiful faces, outfits you love, bright flowers, plants of all kinds, bustling city lights, or pieces from your daily life. These pieces are messages from your subconscious. They reveal what truly moves you. And if you think about it, those themes can even hint at what kind of career you might want.

    I studied management in university back then, not art. Near graduation, I was extremely lost, until I asked a retired mentor for advice. She told me, “If you don’t know what you want to do, think about what you loved as a child.”

    I realized I loved drawing and making things with my hands. So I gradually picked up art again. After working for few years, I returned to school, earned a master’s degree in Fine Art, and turned my passion into my career.

    2. Record your life — especially the things you care about

    There will always be something in life that touches you. Some people love clothing and styling. Some love cars, machines, and industrial aesthetics. Some love traveling and exploring cultures. Some love the atmosphere of local markets. Some love movie characters and cinematic worlds.

    Write them down. Photograph them. The things that appear repeatedly in your words or photos — that’s your creative theme. Drawing, writing, and music all ask the same question: “What moved me today?”

    When you keep creating based on what moves you, your work will naturally form a system, your style will gradually appear, and eventually — your voice emerges.

    3. Don’t be afraid of trial and error, and don’t rush to define your theme

    Your creative theme isn’t something you suddenly decide one day. And it will not stay the same forever. People grow. Experiences accumulate. And your theme evolves with you — that’s the normal state of life. Sometimes we set goals that are too big or too rigid. When we can’t reach them, we begin to doubt ourselves. But the truth is: Change is the only constant.

    Your artistic theme will shift as you grow, because you are constantly changing. Maybe when you’re young you love city lights and new experiences. Later, you may prefer quiet, solitude, and deeper, more abstract expression.

    No one discovers their theme or ideal life in an instant. When we see others succeed, we forget that the moment we see is often the result of decades of preparation. As the saying goes: “One minute on stage takes ten years of work off stage.”

    Your theme — and your ideal life — will slowly reveal themselves. through creating, experiencing, exploring, and making mistakes.

    To summarize — how to find your creative theme

    1. Look back at your past unassigned creations — your subconscious has already given you clues. 2. Record the things you care about — start with what repeats and what you’re good at.  3. Accept that change is normal — don’t judge yourself for shifting interests; explore boldly and embrace change.

    I’m Daisy, someone who loves art and loves sharing it. If you enjoyed this kind of content, feel free to like, follow, and leave a comment. And you’re welcome to share your thoughts about 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.

  • 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.

  • 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?

  • 2025: The Year I Embraced My Artistic Passion

    As 2025 comes to a close, I’ve found my true passion.

    A long-time friend recently left a comment under one of my videos and asked me, “Why art?”Especially when art, at least for now, brings me no money, no stability, no tangible return. So why art?

    “In the first year of my master’s program, I listened to a talk by a musician who played a very niche instrument. When someone in the audience asked her why she chose to stick with that instrument, her answer was simple and direct: ‘Because it’s the only thing I know how to do.’

    That answer hit me deeply.

    In my twenties, I naïvely believed I had endless time and endless choices.
    But as I entered my thirties, I slowly realized that the most precious thing a person has is time. And the older I get, the more I feel how little time each day truly belongs to me.

    Instead of looking everywhere, it’s better to choose one thing and go all in.


    This seemingly simple truth took me a quarter of my life to understand.

    In 2025, my family and I renovated our garage and turned it into my art studio. I got my first student here in Melbourne.I started my another social media account and gained nearly 4,000 followers in just half a year. Now I’m branching out to YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok.

    I know—and the data clearly tells me—that this field is already very crowded. But that’s okay. Because at this point in my life, I’ve finally learned the one “cheat code” for this game called life:

    Dreams don’t come from imagining.They come from doing.

    As 2025 comes to an end, I feel like I’ve finally found true Passion.


    I’ve found a place to put all the experiences and lessons I’ve carried over the years.

    I love everything I’m doing. I love art, and I love sharing it with others through my own perspective and practice.

    And before I finish, I want to share a passage from Steve Jobs—a piece that has inspired me for years.

    “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”


    Happy New Year! I truly wish that my words and arts can bring a positive impact around. I wish everyone who is browsing my website all the best in 2026.