Since I started taking painting more seriously at the beginning of last year I have felt a creeping anxiety about taking my art to the next level. Not necessarily skill-wise, though there is that too, but more in the “become a professional artist” sort of a way. All signs (books, articles, blog posts, videos, etc) pointed to needing to hustle in order to get anywhere as an artist, and as someone who basically functions like a hermit the idea made me sick to so my stomach.

I know I had a post a while back where I was going to play the game and all the world’s a stage. At this very moment, I’m too tired to be a player in that game. I want to lay down and read a book. I want to make my silly little collages or my silly little sewing projects where I have no desire to really get better at them. I want to just doodle. I don’t want to be pursuing my Passion or my Craft or whatever.

The most important thing in my life is love and the people around me. I’ve got an amazing family and in that way I’ve achieved and am living the most successful life. Sure my day job isn’t a perfect fit, but it’s good enough. And all the clawing towards Artistic Freedom ™ as a Professional Artist ™ has only made me anxious and dissatisfied.

So yeah, no one reads this blog. No one is going to visit the portfolio website I will eventually build. The only people that like my posts on Instagram are my mother and two friends. But that’s ok.

I make art because it makes me happy. I do my crafts because they make me feel happy.

All that other stuff? The hustling and the striving and the self promotion? That doesn’t make me happy. So for now, I’m letting it go and letting it be ok. It’s ok not to try to become a professional and well known artist. It’s ok to live my small life with the people I love. It’s more that ok.

I’m still going to paint and enjoy puttering around my art studio. I still think I’ll apply to open calls for art. But I’m not going to hustle to crack into the art world. I would like to sell my paintings more so that I can get them out of my house. I’d like people to see and enjoy my art. But ultimately, it’s not for anyone else. It’s for me. And having painted the things or made the things or written the things is enough.

It’s enough for now. I may feel differently later, but giving myself the permission to let go of the pressure has been a relief. I don’t have to be always producing something. I can rest. I’m no less worthy of a human for doing so.