The Joy Is Not in the Finished Painting
Spreading chalky tempera paint across a large sheet of kraft paper in the fourth grade confirmed that painting would always be my favourite activity. Looking back, sketching and colouring became the quiet repetition that helped regulate me through the emotional years of junior and senior high school at a time when we didn’t yet have the language for it. It was the rhythm of drawing that could quiet the noise and encourage a sense of worth.
After years of exploring different mediums and painting numerous watercolour commissions, it was pastel that finally brought that same spark of joy. Moving chalky pastel sticks across sanded paper felt tactile, immediate, and deeply familiar. I loved the vibrant colour at my fingertips and eventually began submitting my work to national shows where I was recognized for the skill I had developed.
Still, even meaningful creative work can become clouded by pressure over time. Social media introduced a quieter kind of erosion as constant comparison slowly chipped away at my creative confidence. I found myself replacing painting with mundane distractions and everyday obligations. Ironically, the days I least feel like painting are often the days I need it most.
Recent research suggests that creating art can reduce anxiety and improve well-being, reinforcing something many artists already understand intuitively: the process itself matters.
Creating a still-life painting begins long before the first pastel mark is applied. There is the collecting of beautiful objects, the arrangement of lighting, the quiet observation of drawing, and finally the rhythmic application of pastel across paper. Somewhere within those small rituals, the nervous system begins to settle. Often, the joy arrives long before the painting is complete.
Creativity is one of the first things artists lose during periods of exhaustion or emotional overwhelm, yet it can also become the very thing that reconnects them to themselves again. Not through perfection or productivity, but through the quiet act of making.
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