My Art Practice This Week: Slow Progress, Soft Wins

---

This week wasn’t about finishing projects or chasing perfection. Instead, I allowed myself to slow down and simply show up. Lately, I’ve been trying to be more mindful of burnout—its patterns, its weight—and I’ve learned that creating consistently, even in small doses, keeps the spark alive without exhausting it.

Between life’s many moving parts—managing responsibilities, tending to relationships, and trying to keep up with it all—I carved out a few quiet moments with my sketchbook or iPad. Even five or ten minutes of drawing felt like a grounding ritual. No pressure. Just presence.

Sometimes it takes a bit of coaxing to get started—putting on a favorite playlist, making a cup of tea, or simply opening my sketchbook to an old page. These little rituals help signal to my brain that it’s time to create, even if the window is small. I’ve realized that inspiration often meets me halfway when I take that first step.

What I Focused On

I’ve noticed something surprising lately: I’m starting to feel more at home in my art practice. Techniques that once felt out of reach are slowly becoming familiar again. My favorite way to warm up is through animal studies.

Sometimes, I trace the outer silhouette to ease into the gesture. Other times, I dive into visualizing the volumes in 3D. My long-term goal is to be able to draw animals from memory with confidence and expression, and this week’s repetitions have felt like a step in that direction. No breakthroughs—just small, steady progress that matters.

Drawing from memory is a long-term goal not just for the technical skill, but for the creative freedom it unlocks. It’s not about getting every detail right—it’s about trusting my instincts. Progress has shown up in subtle ways: quicker gesture lines, less hesitation, and more personality in the sketches. Each time I sit down and surprise myself by remembering how a paw curves or where the eyes sit, it feels like a small internal celebration.

Some Sketchbook Moments

This week, I kept things a little more playful and experimental. Alongside my usual animal studies, I decided to try a still life and revisit painting. I even squeezed in time to paint this frog — isn’t he fun?

There’s something whimsical about frogs that always makes them a joy to sketch. I’ve been leaning into their quirky shapes and using them as an excuse to play with form and texture.

Lately, I’ve also been nudging myself to improve my painting confidence. I’ve always had a strong connection to pen and ink—there’s a directness and simplicity to the medium that feels familiar and safe. But I knew that to grow as an artist, I had to lean into discomfort. So I started experimenting with gouache and digital painting again.

These mediums feel less predictable, but in a good way. Mixing color, adjusting brush pressure, and layering paint forces me to slow down and observe more intentionally. And somewhere in that slowness, I’ve started to find joy. The paint doesn’t always do what I expect, and that’s okay. Sometimes it leads to surprises that feel more alive than anything I could’ve planned. Even the messier results have a kind of charm I’m learning to appreciate.

Small Wins!

One unexpected win this week? I really enjoyed the still lifes. I didn’t think I would! Mixing paint and playing with color relationships felt refreshingly low-stakes. I got the reference pictures of simple objects and let the brush lead the way, choosing colors intuitively, layering shapes, and just exploring without judgment.

What surprised me most was how meditative still life painting feels. It forces me to really look—to notice the softness of a shadow, the curve of a stem, the way warm and cool tones interact. It’s an exercise in patience, one that I didn’t expect to enjoy so much. I’m starting to see everyday objects differently now. Even a fruit bowl becomes an invitation to pause and observe.

These moments reminded me that creating can feel good—not just productive or impressive, but joyful in its own right. There’s something magical about sitting down for a “quick sketch” and realizing you’ve spent an hour or two lost in the flow. And when you actually like the result? That’s the kind of magic that keeps me coming back to the page.

Where I Struggled This Week

Of course, not every session felt smooth or inspired. Some days, I opened my sketchbook and just stared at the blank page. I didn’t know what to draw, or I didn’t feel connected to anything I started. That frustration can creep in quickly if I let it.

But I’ve been working on recognizing those moments with more kindness. When things aren’t flowing, I give myself permission to step away. Sometimes, returning after a walk or a meal helps reset my energy. Other times, it doesn’t—and that’s okay too. What matters most is that I showed up and honored the effort. Even the “off” days are part of the process.

One of those off days this week came mid-afternoon. I had time carved out, but everything I started felt wrong. I gave up halfway through a sketch and almost closed my notebook. Instead, I decided to switch mediums. I grabbed my iPad and doodled abstract blobs just for fun—no pressure, no “good” result in mind. That small pivot helped loosen the grip of perfectionism. It reminded me that creativity doesn’t always look like a finished piece—it can just be a shift in perspective.

What matters most is that I showed up and honored the effort. Even the “off” days are part of the process.

My Goals for Next Week

Looking ahead, I want to focus more on digital paint rendering. It’s still one of my weakest areas, and I’d like to slowly chip away at that discomfort. To keep the process enjoyable, I’m thinking of sketching out little scenes with some narrative—tiny story moments or imagined vignettes.

I’m imagining small scenes with tiny characters—a frog reading under a mushroom, a bird building a nest, maybe even a tea party between forest animals. These kinds of sketches let me blend my love for storytelling with the visual language I’m building. It feels like I’m returning to a part of myself that used to dream up entire worlds as a kid. And the beauty is, I don’t need them to be perfect—I just want to let that playful voice have the mic again.

I know I’ll learn more by doing than by overthinking. So next week, I’m giving myself permission to experiment, to stumble, and to be curious.

Closing Thoughts

If nothing else, I’m proud of myself this week for showing up. I didn’t just think about creating—I actually did it. Even when the sessions were short or imperfect, I was present with my practice.

There’s a quote by Maya Angelou that I carry close:

“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”

And it’s true. The act of making, even in the smallest ways, expands the well.

I hope you’re finding your own soft wins in your creative journey. If something brought you joy this week—a sketch, a spark of inspiration, a small artistic win—I’d love to hear about it. Feel free to leave a comment, reply, or share your favorite page from your own sketchbook.

---

Related posts