Sweaty Messes and Muddy Brushes: What to Do When Nothing Works
There are days when the paint glides onto the panel like it was meant to be there, when a portrait comes alive with just a few bold strokes and everything feels effortless.
And then... there are the last two weeks.
Lately, it feels like every single time I pick up a pencil or a brush, whatever I touch turns straight to crap. Marks that should be decisive look confused. Colours that should sing look like mud. I’ve wiped down panels, stared blankly at unfinished faces, and wondered where the spark went.
If you’ve spent any time making art, you know this feeling—that wall where intention and reality stop talking to each other. When a slump like this hits, it’s easy to panic and wonder if you’ve suddenly forgotten how to paint. But looking around the studio right now, I can pin this bad streak on a mix of three very real things:
First, my internal vision just isn't crystal clear right now. I’ve had issues with this before—when the image in my head is blurry, my hand on the canvas reflects that hesitation. If you don’t know where you’re going, every path feels wrong.
Second, the weather. It has been brutally HOT. There is nothing on this earth that gets me crankier or kills my creative groove faster than being a hot, sweaty mess in the studio. Acrylics dry too fast, patience runs thin, and trying to focus while dripping sweat is a recipe for frustration.
And third—and probably most honestly—I am simply burnt out.
I’ve been in this studio pretty much seven days a week for the last three months solid. And when I'm not putting brush to panel, I’ve been editing Reels, drafting social media captions, or putting together blog posts like this. The content hamster wheel never stops turning, and somewhere along the line, my output outpaced my intake. My creative well is bone dry.
Making art isn't just about putting time in at the easel; it’s about having something inside that’s ready to pour out. When you run the engine at full speed for ninety days straight, eventually it’s going to sputter.
So what’s the plan? I'm giving myself permission to take a breather. To step out of the hot studio, turn off the camera, and let the unfinished pieces sit in the corner without judgment. The paint will still be there when the temperature drops and my head clears
If you’re currently stuck in your own creative swamp, know you’re not alone. Sometimes the best thing you can do for your work is to push back from your worktable and walk away from it for a minute.
See you on the flipside!
