When I was a child, I loved doodling, playing with colours, and crafting without worrying about how it would turn out or how Instagrammable it would look. I didn’t think about whether it could earn me a penny, become a business, or fit into any philosophy of what “art” should be. I never asked if my work was sustainable or eco-friendly.
The only thing that mattered then was the joy of creating. The only interruption? My Amma yelling a bit about the mess I made around the house but that too was part of the game. And it was aaaaaaaaaaaallllllllll worth it when I got to see my finished work: good, bad, or gloriously ugly.
“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” – Pablo Picasso
Back then, I felt joy—pure, unfiltered joy—just being immersed in creating something, whether it turned out the way I imagined or not. I felt proud whenever I had something I’d made from scratch. I simply tried, without seeking validation, likes, or hearts.
But somewhere along the way, growing up changed that. Hobbies became content. Creativity turned into a checklist: Is it aesthetic? Insta-worthy? Can it earn something? And slowly, the joy faded under the weight of those expectations. My interest in creating began to slip away not because I didn’t love it anymore, but because I was subconsciously trying to give it “value” that others could see.
But the thing is, the moment you start judging your art, you stop making it for yourself.
It took me years to realize that the real value of art lies not in its product but in its process—in the effort, in the flow, in the quiet joy of losing yourself to something you love. It’s about becoming one with what you create, about that mindful stillness that only comes when your hands are busy and your heart is light.
And once that truth hit me, there was no stopping. I went back to scraps and bits, to junk journaling, to binding papers into journals, to making poetry zines, to splashing colours just for the fun of it. Art came back, not as a hustle, but as healing.
“Art is not a thing; it is a way.” – Elbert Hubbard
The comeback art is here to stay, and this time, it’s not here to impress but to express. To play, to breathe, to simply be.
This post is part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.