Whenever I go through a longer-than-normal art slump, I have Feelings about it. Some of these feelings seem straightforward to me. I miss painting! But one of the most curious feelings is guilt. Why should I feel guilty about not doing something that I really only do to bring myself enjoyment?
“Not doing enough art” is a perfect example of something that it seems ridiculous to feel guilt about, yet it is so common: I’ve felt it and I’ve discussed it with many other artists. This guilt can come in various flavors.
Productivity guilt
I recently talked about sunsetting the Monthly Retrospective series, partially for the reason that it encourages me to focus too much on how many paintings I’ve done each month, which feels bad when I haven’t done any (or many). I notice that in many of my Monthly Retrospectives, I’ve felt the need to apologize for explain for why the total isn’t higher. I find this as inevitable as it’s irrational; after all, who cares how many paintings I’ve done? Besides, number of paintings isn’t equivalent to quality or complexity (and is often opposite), and I also think it’s fine to take time off, and that ebb and flow is natural. Still, anytime you measure something, you end up feeling either dopamine or sadness depending on whether number go up.
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- Is productivity important?
- Is output important? What changes for me if my stack of paintings is bigger or smaller?
- Is number of paintings (or whatever I am measuring) an accurate reflection of the value of my practice? Am I measuring the right thing? Do I need to measure at all?
- What if I rest?
Self-improvement guilt
Art practice is often seen as a form of self-improvement or a course of study. The goal is learning, personal growth, and mastery, often via consistent, regular practice. The guilt comes from the feeling that I’m letting myself down, falling behind in my learning goals, letting my skills rust, wasting time and opportunities to improve, etc.
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- Is it important to improve?
- What’s the rush?
- Does the program I am attempting to follow actually work for my life?
- Do I have other ongoing self-improvement goals? Have I taken on too much?
- What if I just did what was easy and fun?
Self-care guilt
Self-care guilt is similar to self-improvement guilt, in that it is in the same guilt family as falling behind on an exercise habit, a language-learning course, or a New Year’s resolution. The subtle difference is that the focus is not on building skill or accomplishing goals, but on taking care of yourself. I specifically will feel guilty about relying on other forms of relaxation that feel less constructive and wholesome, such as watching TV or playing phone games.
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- Has something changed in my life recently? Have my needs and capacities changed?
- Is art nourishing me right now?
- Is self-care the role that art fills in my life, or do I use it for self-improvement or another purpose? (Self-care is usually mutually exclusive with other roles.)
- What’s so wrong with my other, “less wholesome” self-care strategies? Are they giving me something that art doesn’t? Are they attainable in ways that art is not?
- What practical or emotional barriers stand in the way of my art-as-self-care practice? Are there things I could do to make the fun and relaxing part more accessible?
- What if I released myself from the obligation to do self-care “right”?
Quitting guilt
Quitting guilt is the specific guilt that comes from giving up on, or failing to achieve a previously set goal: giving up on a challenge, breaking a streak, or otherwise not meeting some bar, no matter how arbitrary.
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- How easy was it for me to take on this goal? Is it easier to take things on than to give things up? Should it be?
- What other challenges, obligations, etc. have I taken on during this time period? Is it realistic to complete all of them?
- What are the opportunity costs of pursuing this challenge?
- Is it always failure when a streak ends or when a challenge is attempted and not completed?
- What was my goal in taking this on? What did I hope to learn or accomplish? What have I actually learned or accomplished?
- Do “quitters never win”? What are some legitimate reasons to quit? What are some upsides? What are some downsides of not quitting?
Consumerist guilt
I’m more prone to feel guilty about my art supplies purchases when I’m accumulating new stuff at a faster rate than I’m using stuff up, especially if the doing part of my hobby is on pause while the shopping part of my hobby is ongoing.
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- What is shopping for art supplies doing for me? What are the upsides?
- Is it important for collecting and using supplies to occur in balance or at the same time? Are there other seasons where I use stuff faster than I acquire more?
- What is a reasonable budget for this hobby? What’s a reasonable allocation of space?
- Are there ways I can free up guilt-free money and/or space for this hobby (e.g. by selling or giving away unneeded items)?
- When are my purchases “hot” (impulsive) and when are they carefully considered? What are my triggers for making spending decisions I’ll regret?
- What are some purchases I was glad I made?
Accountability guilt
So far, the forms of guilt we’ve discussed have mostly related to letting yourself down. When other people are involved, the guilt can become compounded: you feel you’re letting someone else down.
For me, this mostly occurs when I fail to meet (usually self-imposed) expectations around how often I’ll publish blog or social media posts. It can also occur if I make promises to others, such as agreeing to do a commission or make a gift. I may feel guilty for taking too long, or for producing work that I feel is not good enough, often subjecting myself to much more rigorous standards than the other party.
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- Who is relying on me?
- What are their expectations of me?
- Are these expectations reasonable?
- What will happen if these expectations are not met?
- How do I feel when the roles are reversed? (For example, if I’m feeling guilt about not posting frequently, I think about my favorite bloggers and how I feel when they don’t post for awhile: Fine! I barely notice!)
Community guilt
A highly specific kind of guilt that can occur when you’re part of an art community: constantly evaluating whether you’re doing enough art to belong. I’ve noticed this feeling in myself (can I really answer questions on Reddit about specific pigments when I haven’t painted in a month???) I’ve also noticed in various online communities that it is pretty common to apologize both for being around despite not doing much art, and for not being around at times.
As the admin of an art community, I can promise that I never notice how much art any given person does or doesn’t post art. I like having everyone around, and I would welcome a person who likes to discuss art-related topic even if they never, ever paint. There is really no need to apologize for leaving or for coming back. I mean, I have ADHD and am time-blind; I do not know how long you were gone for, and I certainly understand dropping a hobby for awhile!
Here are some questions to interrogate this form of guilt:
- How much production is required to participate in an art community? (Hint: None!)
- How do I feel about people in my art communities who don’t produce much? (Hint: it isn’t a problem at all!)
- How would I respond to a fellow community member who confided in me about feeling the kind of guilt I’m feeling now?
Conclusion
Guilt is an emotion that’s meant to fire when we don’t live up to our values. It’s an attack of conscience, meant to alert us that we need to change our ways. But it can be unhelpful if it’s too general, nonspecific, and frequent; and if it’s attached to things that don’t really matter to you, or aren’t really against your values. Recovering perfectionists often have overactive guilt impulses, getting into no-win scenarios where our expectations of ourselves are so unrealistic and contradictory that we feel guilt no matter what we do. Guilt can become our go-to emotion, the one that occurs most and in inappropriate situations.
When you’re feeling guilty about something that does not require guilt, such as “not doing enough art,” I actually think it usually signals that there’s something else going on. Examples of the “something else”:
- I’m not spending my time and energy in ways that I want to be.
- I have unrealistic expectations.
- I’m procrastinating/avoiding something I want to do because of unacknowledged difficulties (e.g. fear of failure).
- I’m struggling with time management, task initiation, prioritization, or other areas of executive function due to my neurodivergence.
- I’m not meeting standards that I’ve internalized from my culture (regardless of whether I agree with them or they’re possible to achieve.)
- My goals, values, and priorities are shifting, conflicting, or undefined.
None of these are necessarily things to feel guilty about. They may still be problems that can be alleviated, but they call for different solutions and adaptations than each other, and certainly different ones than the guilt would imply: for example, productivity guilt would imply the solution is “work harder” but in fact the opposite may be true. That’s why it’s so useful to gently and nonjudgmentally interrogate past the initial presentation of guilt to find the real issue hidden underneath.