The Hidden Struggle Every Artist Faces—And the Best Way to Overcome It

I’m sitting here stuck, like I have been for days. I try to get some words on a page and just can't do it. I have a blog-writing formula I learned from Mathew Dicks and his book Storyworthy.

I have a whole list of stories from my life written down, and I run through them until one grabs me and inspires me. I think about the story. I put myself there. I relive the story. I smell it all. Touch it all. Visualize everything. Then I think of the five-second moment. What was that moment of transformation? Where did my thoughts shift or revelation come? How am I different at the end of the story than the beginning?

Once I have my five-second moment, as Mathew calls it, then I build backwards. I implement everything I learned about storytelling and run backwards through the story to the beginning. I have to find a logical beginning that is as close as possible to the five-second moment without losing context or being confusing.

If I start my story too soon, then I end up rambling for paragraphs, and the story turns out weak. I have to choose a beginning that tells enough of the story, but not too much. That beginning should have forward movement. It should grab your attention.

This beginning doesn’t have forward movement. It begins with me being stuck. The whole last paragraph is movement-less backstory of how I craft a story.

A good beginning should be the opposite of the five-second moment. If the story ends with me forgiving my father, it should start with me being angry with my father. This is how the story gets an arc. Since this story begins with me being stuck, I suppose the ending might have something to do with me being unstuck…That’s shameless foreshadowing!

When the Well Runs Dry

How did I get stuck? Well, as per usual, I looked through my list of stories on Sunday, when I usually write my blog. It's due on Monday so that there is time to edit, add photos, format, construct an email, and get it out, all through my amazing marketing assistant Marissa. Tuesday morning is my drop-dead last chance. I can't ever get it to her past about 10am.

Sunday nothing strikes me. None of my stories inspire me. I find absolutely nothing I want to write about. Monday I try again, and nothing. My list is boring, boring, boring! The familiar panic of getting stuck strikes. All Monday, I am in and out of praying and scouring my life for something I want to write about. I get NOTHING!

Monday night, I start to rationalize: “I don't really have to write anything this week. I am human; I can take a week off. No one will actually care.”

Then I get a message that night from an artist who writes to me, “I am so grateful for your blog. I was stuck in my own writing, but when I read your blog last week, something happened, and I got inspired to write. I wrote out a whole story about my dad and posted it, and now he has written me a long letter apologizing. Thank you!”

Ugh! If I let resistance win this week, it could win next week, and then the next. Then resistance becomes my master. Then I’m a huge hypocrite, and I can't tell artists to not let resistance beat them. This is getting awful! I’m twisted into a knot. Responsible. Guilty. Stuck. I want to throw in the towel, but I can't!

I wake up this morning, Tuesday, final deadline morning, with new resolve. It 5am, and I’m about to go to Pilates. I have 10 minutes to decide on a blog idea. Once I decide and have my five-second moment, the blog is as good as written.

I sit at the kitchen table where many a revelation has taken place in the past, send up a quick prayer acknowledging I need God, and think, “What do I really want to tell artists right now? What is my number one message on my heart? If I could pour into artists’ brains any information that could change their life, what would it be?”

BOOM! I’ve got it. I know exactly what I want to say.

Every Artist's Deepest Fear

I want to share what I have struggled with most as an artist and how I got through that struggle. Simple. I think it is a struggle everyone has. Out of all the artists I know and have had a relationship with, I can't think of a single one who doesn’t horrifically struggle with this. But with everything in me, I can't come up with a story that illustrates it.

It has been a reoccurring story. It is a struggle that has shown its face again and again. There are too many stories to tell. There isn't a beginning. The struggle has no origin. My five-second moment happened this morning at the kitchen table when I realized what was the overcoming or solution to this struggle every artist has. My beginning starts as close as possible to the five-second moment without losing any story. The beginning is me being stuck and not knowing what to write about. So here we are.

What is the struggle? What have I struggled with the very most as an artist? Ready?

“No one likes my art!” Sometimes even me!

No one likes my art. No one WILL like my art. I won't be able to sell it. It's not original enough. It looks cheesy. It’s boring. It's too dark. It's too tight. What's the point of even painting it? No one wants it. Everyone loves John’s art. Dimitra is admired by the whole world, and EVERYONE wants HER art. But not mine.

Is this even true? Not really. I have sold over 10,000 pieces of art. Someone has liked it. I have sold almost all of the last 20 pieces I have created. Strangers off the street who don’t know me walk into our gallery and buy my art. So, logically, it is not true. So why has this thought, this struggle, plagued me my whole career? Why does it still terrorize me sometimes?

The Universal Lie

I truly think this is at the very heart and base of every single artist, no matter where they are in their journey. If you are at the beginning, you think, “No one likes my art, and even if I improve they probably still won't.”

If you are midway through your journey, even after successes, you think, “Those sold paintings were flukes,” or, “I had a nice run, but now I have lost it, and no one likes my work.”

Every setback or discouragement I have ever faced grinds into the deep, sore wound: “You didn't get into that show because no one likes your art. You had a show and no one bought anything because no one likes your art. You were passed over for that opportunity because no one likes your art.” Why, after 30 years, is this still a struggle?

I asked John this morning what he struggles with the most as an artist. He said, “To stay focused and get to work. To start pieces and finish them without getting distracted.” I asked him if he had ten commissions, each paying $7,000, would he struggle with productivity and focus? He said, “No.”

So I asked him, “What do you think is behind your lack of focus? Are you worried no one will like your art?” He said, “NO way! I like my art. I’m just trying to balance what I like to paint and what I think other people will like to have.”

“So then, you are worried about people liking your art! That’s what keeps you out of the studio!”

“Yeah, I guess that's true,” he said.

Whether it is perfectionism, control, motivation, new ideas, finishing artwork, acquiring the right skills, showing our work to people, or building a website—at the very heart of the matter is that we are worried that people won’t like our art. This is at the heart of every problem an artist has. It is what stops us.

We want others to like our art. It is the ultimate form of acceptance. Our big dream is on the line. Everything we have ever hoped for is at stake. We have invested countless hours behind the brush, spent fortunes on supplies, easels, and art classes. We have told our families and close friends that we want to be artists and show our work in galleries and participate in the art world in one form or another.

This dream isn't private. It is public. Facing the public humiliation of no one liking our creations, our heart’s vision, our whole life story on a canvas, is too much to bear. It is easier to allow ourselves to be distracted or hide. If we don't throw everything we have into it, if we don’t fully try, then it hurts much less when no one likes our art.

Dispelling the Darkness

For successful artists, who do try with everything they have, who stay focused and in a habit of completing art, who are growing and selling their work, it is incredibly difficult to admit that we still worry that people don't like our art. We should be past this. There must be something wrong with us if after all these sales, we still feel afraid that people don't like our art.

I still compare myself to other artists and feel less than. Other artists and collectors look up to me and see me as someone who has arrived. How can I admit the complete stupidity that I still worry that people don't like my art?

So, I admitted it to you. You probably think I am super confident and don't have insecurities or issues with my art. You see the finished piece or the “Sold” signs and think you are alone in your worries that no one likes your art.

Now you see I struggle with the exact same thing you struggle with. Not only me, but every single artist alive. Picasso struggled with this. Rembrandt worried about whether anyone would like his art. Frida Kahlo was utterly convinced no one liked hers. The most beloved artist of all time, Vincent Van Gogh, was completely tortured with the notion that no one liked his art. YOU are not alone.

The best way to take away power from what is dark is to expose it to the light. The second we admit a hidden, shameful thought, it loses its power. It no longer has a grip. The lie is seen for what it is: A LIE. I admit, I expose, I shine light on my dark, hidden thought. I am afraid that no one likes my art.

Done. Exposed. Brought to light. No power over me. It’s all a lie.

Many people love my art. Many people love your art, and even more WILL love the art you create in the future.

It’s now 8:33am Tuesday morning. It's an hour and half before my final deadline for Marissa to get this to your email inbox. I was stuck and unable to tell you a story from my life because I was supposed to write this. I was supposed to expose the dark lie EVERY artist believes. I was supposed to tell you that you are not alone in your struggle. We all share that struggle.

But after today, the lie has lost its power over you. Your excuses will end. Your moments of doubt will weaken. You will remember it's just a lie and the truth is that MANY PEOPLE LOVE YOUR ART!

What would you create if you knew your art would be loved and appreciated?