“I could do that” is a sickness, and I have it bad. I also have an obsession with beautiful dresses I see on Instagram, and an allergy to paying $300 for one.

I’ve kept an illustrated journal since 2009. Here, for your amusement, is a look into some of my notes and sketches over the years.

I can’t find the originator of that quote, but it came to me via Austin Kleon. After 10+ years of drawing the other kind of workshop, that idea felt like a breath of fresh air.

I hope that sharing my totally non-linear process helps normalize your creative chaos. Maybe helps de-influence us from the Instagram-perfect romanticized version of making art.

The truth is, I was happy with the work I had done, and content in knowing that the client was absolutely delighted with it. I was also aware of what I could have done differently, and what I might do next time. But instead of experiencing that knowing as a tight embarrassment, or a pointy shame attack, it felt like the spark of inspiration for the next piece for this client. It felt useful. It felt healthy. Because my inner critic and I are getting along great these days. We’re on the same side.

If people are copying you, it’s sad for them because it means they aren’t in touch with their own creative source. But you are. But as long as you keep making good shit and weed out the relationships that aren’t reciprocal, you’ll always have that access. They’re showing you that the best thing about them is you, and that will be sad for them when you’re off making good shit without them.

Muse, critic, inner child. Imagine if these parts of you needed each other. Longed for each other. Advocated and fought for each other instead of against each other. What would that change?