The journey of becoming an artist is often portrayed as a linear path—growing up with a passion for painting, attending art school, and eventually setting up your own studio. While this timeline makes sense on the surface, the reality of life as an artist is far more complex and profound. In fact, I’m here to challenge that conventional narrative.
You don’t need to attend art school, live a bohemian lifestyle, own an art studio, or endure years of low income until you finally "make it" as an influential artist. The fact that you’re reading this and questioning what it takes to become an artist gives me hope that you’re already on the path, in one way or another, and that you’re thinking about how to connect the dots.
There’s something innate within us, deep down, that stirs when we feel unsettled, when we sense that we don’t quite belong, or when we empathise with the pain and love of others as if it were our own.
When I was younger, I believed I had to follow a prescribed path: get better at painting, learn more techniques, and attend the best art schools. While these steps undoubtedly helped me, I now realise that the true reason I can consider myself an artist isn’t tied to the number of paintings I create or sell. The reason I know I’m an artist is deeply connected to the overwhelming need to create. For many of us, there’s something priceless in the act of creation. Some of us are born with that gift, and it’s our life’s mission to express it, one way or another. No art school can teach you that.
As life goes on, I’ve noticed that routine, rather than stifling creativity, can often fuel it. The need to create something new and wild becomes louder, like an inner voice urging us to step out of our comfort zone. These are the best times—when it’s just you and the idea, free from expectations or rules.
Every experience, every person, and every city I’ve encountered has shaped the artist I am today. My advice? Don’t limit yourself to one path. Live, grow, be scared, fall in love, seek out both the storms and the calm, because these experiences are what make your art unique. They are your story and the story of everyone you’ve met.
For me, it wasn’t until I settled into the routine of the happiest time of my life that I realised something crucial. Even when everything seemed perfect, that restless feeling—the need to create—was still there. I needed to honour it.
These are just loose thoughts, but wherever you are in your journey, don’t be afraid of failure. Go for it. Do it. Art is beautiful in every form. You don’t need a midlife crisis or to abandon your current life to become an artist. You—and your life—are what make your art unique. The rest will follow.