The Sneaky Way Procrastination Shows Up for Creative People (And Why It Has Nothing to Do With Laziness)

My studio assistants, Skippy & Mia, assessing my busy work.

I never thought of myself as someone who procrastinates.

Honestly, the word never even applied to me in my mind. I am always doing something. My days are full, my mind is engaged, and I am constantly working on something related to my art. So the idea that I might be avoiding the work? It genuinely never crossed my mind.

Until one morning it did.

I sat down to work on facial expressions for a character in my children's book illustration portfolio. I put in what felt like a solid hour of real work. It felt good. I felt productive. And then I stepped away, came back later that day, looked at what I'd made, and immediately hated it.

And that was it. That was the moment the spiral started.

Instead of pushing through, I went into full research paralysis. I started looking at other illustrators, other styles, trying to figure out what I liked more. I went to the bookstore a couple of times and just sat with children's books, making mental notes. And I never went back to the sketchbook. Not because I forgot. Because I felt like I had failed so hard that my own style wasn't good enough to keep going.

What I didn't realize at the time was that this wasn't an off day. This was productive procrastination. And it is so much sneakier than the regular kind.

When Avoiding the Work Looks Like Doing the Work

Here's what productive procrastination looked like for me in practice.

I knew exactly what I needed to add to my children's book portfolio. I knew the kinds of pieces art directors want to see. I had a direction. The next step was clear: sit down and make the pieces.

But instead of doing that, I kept circling around it. I would do practice runs. I would research illustration styles. I would find a class to take, and then while taking that class I would realize I needed to work on color values, so I would find a class on that. Then I would decide my light and shadow work needed improvement digitally, so I would look for a class on that too.

Every single step felt important. Every step felt like growth.

But at the end of the week, the portfolio pieces still didn't exist.

I was moving constantly. Just not forward.

And on top of that, I was also trying to build a surface design portfolio at the same time, because that also felt important and like it was going to lead somewhere. So now I had two directions pulling at me, and I was making very little real progress in either one.

Hamster wheel. Lots of motion, almost no traction.

The Fear Underneath the Busyness

When I finally sat down and journaled about what was actually happening, something uncomfortable became very clear.

My procrastination isn't laziness. It's perfectionism. And underneath the perfectionism is fear.

Here's the specific fear, the one I hadn't quite named yet: right now, I can hide behind an excuse. I've already been submitting myself for children's illustration work, and when I don't hear back, I can tell myself it's because my portfolio isn't quite presenting what art directors are looking for yet. That excuse is actually a comfort. It gives me somewhere to put the rejection that isn't about me.

But the moment I build the portfolio I know they want to see, the moment I truly put my best work forward, I lose that excuse. And then the answer becomes real. What if I do everything right, and they still don't hire me?

That is a vulnerable place to stand.

And so instead of standing there, I kept refining. I kept preparing. I kept waiting to be ready, even though "ready" didn't have a name or a face or a finish line. It was just this vague feeling of not good enough yet, and I kept chasing it.

The Moment I Caught Myself

What finally broke the cycle was journaling.

When I sat down and wrote honestly about what I had been doing with my time, it became very clear very fast. I could see the difference between real work and work that mimics real work. Research can look like progress. Classes can look like progress. Practice runs can look like progress. But at some point you have to stop preparing and start producing.

And what I saw in my journal was that I had been letting my inner critic decide when I was allowed to move forward. I was waiting for her to give me permission to be good enough, and she was never going to give it to me.

That realization landed hard. And it moved me immediately.

What I Do Once I See It

Once I recognize I'm in productive procrastination mode, I do two things right away.

First, I give myself a specific deadline. Not "sometime soon" but an actual date.

Second, I narrow the task down to one clear, concrete action. Not "work on my portfolio" but something like "create one piece showing character interaction in a children's book scene." That kind of specificity breaks the spell. The resistance starts to dissolve because the task is no longer this big shapeless scary thing. It's just one thing.

And I move into it.

One Question That Always Helps Me Reset

When I catch myself spinning in preparation mode, I ask myself this:

What is the real work I am avoiding right now?

Not the practice. Not the research. Not the preparation. The real work.

And once I answer that honestly, I always know exactly what to do next.

If this resonates with you, if you've been feeling busy but somehow stuck, you might not be procrastinating the way you think. You might just be circling the work you care about most. And that makes a lot of sense, because the work that matters most to us is also the work that makes us the most vulnerable.

You're not behind. You're not lazy. You might just be waiting for permission that only you can give yourself.

If You Want to Watch the Shaping in Real Time

I share this whole stage inside my Patreon, the works in progress, the portfolio building, the experimenting, the refining. It's not polished. It's honest. And if you're building something too, I think you'd feel right at home there.

And if you're feeling lost in the woods right now and need help reconnecting with your North Star, the Starlight Dream Lab is a beautiful place to begin. It's where we do the deeper work of remembering what you're actually building toward.

Keep going, beautiful soul.

How to Find Your Art Style When You Like Too Many Things

(And Why Liking Many Things Is Not the Problem)

My “Poppy Milk” mini collection from 2025

If you’ve ever thought, “I like too many things , I guess I’ll never find my art style,” I want you to take a breath right now.

Because what if the problem isn’t that you like too many things…
What if the problem is that you’ve been taught the wrong order?

For a long time, I believed I needed to figure out my style first before I could put myself out into the world as an artist. Before I could show my work. Before I could pursue licensing, illustration, or meaningful opportunities.

And without realizing it, finding my style became a barrier between me and actually doing the work.

That belief quietly feeds perfectionism.
It delays momentum.
And it keeps artists endlessly “preparing” instead of participating.

If that sounds familiar, this post is for you.

When “Finding Your Style” Becomes a Trap

Here’s something I don’t hear talked about enough:

A huge part of discovering your style doesn’t happen in private.

It happens after you put your work out into the world.

It happens when:

• You notice which pieces people respond to (and which they don’t)

• You feel into what doesn’t feel aligned anymore

• You receive feedback, even neutral or confusing feedback

• You realize what’s missing from your portfolio

• You see patterns in what you keep returning to

You can’t get that information by waiting until everything feels perfect.

And yet, many artists treat style like a gatekeeper:

“Once I figure this out, then I’ll be ready.”

In my experience, it’s the opposite.

Readiness comes from repetition, exposure, and choice, not certainty.

Liking Many Things Doesn’t Mean You’re Unfocused

For a long time, I interpreted my wide range of interests as a flaw.

I love:

• Gouache and mixed media

• Digital illustration and surface design

• Animals, women, florals

• Mythical, whimsical, storybook worlds

• Minimal, chic aesthetics and rich, narrative depth

• Children’s books and licensing art for everyday objects

At one point, all of that felt like evidence that I lacked direction.

Now I see it differently.

Liking many things usually means:

• You have a wide field of vision

• You’re sensitive to nuance

• You’re capable of world-building, not just one-off images

• You’re meant to work relationally, not narrowly

It doesn’t mean you lack direction.
It means you need cohesion, not restriction.

The Shift That Changed Everything: Working in Collections

The biggest breakthrough in my creative process came when I stopped asking:

“What is my style?”

And started asking:

“What story am I telling, and how can these pieces belong together?”

Working in collections changed everything.

Before that, I created mostly one-off pieces:

• Intuitive bursts of inspiration

• Beautiful moments, but disconnected

• Little momentum

• No clear throughline for my audience (or myself)

Once I began working in collections, clarity followed naturally.

Not because I forced a style, but because I made consistent choices.

My Current Framework (You Can Borrow This)

Here’s the simple framework I use now:

Theme → Constraints → Story → Exploration

Instead of waiting for inspiration to strike perfectly, I begin with structure that still allows play.

1. Start with a Theme

This might be:

• A place (the woods, a village, the night)

• A concept (time of day, seasons, mythology)

• A feeling (quiet magic, nostalgia, wonder)

Right now, my Patreon collection Moonrise Menagerie is built around woodland settings, mythic animals, and the progression of time across a single day.

2. Add Constraints (This Is Where Style Begins)

Constraints reduce pressure and increase cohesion.

The things I consciously limit:

• Color palette (this is always my doorway in)

• Location or setting

• Tools & materials (very limited brushes or media)

• Motifs (animals, flowers, stars, repeated symbols)

• Texture & line weight

When you remove infinite options, your preferences start to speak.

3. Let the Story Lead

Instead of asking, “Am I good enough?”
I ask, “What am I trying to give?”

That shift moves the focus:

• Away from self-judgment

• Toward connection

• Toward the viewer’s experience

Story creates momentum. Style follows.

4. Keep Composition Flexible

I intentionally leave room for play.

I might have a loose idea, but I allow:

• Accidents

• Discoveries

• Adjustments mid-process

Some of my strongest moments happen because I didn’t over-plan.

Why This Quietly Teaches You Your Style

Style isn’t a single decision.

It’s the accumulation of small preferences repeated consistently.

Over time, I noticed:

• I reach for the same tools because my hand responds well to them

• I layer color in a specific order

• I return to warmth, softness, and gentle symbolism

• Stars, woodland elements, and nurturing tones appear again and again

I didn’t force these choices.
They emerged because I stayed with the work longer.

That’s the real secret.

What Changed Emotionally When I Stopped “Picking the Right Thing”

I became:

• More relaxed

• More confident

• Less afraid of feedback

• More willing to share imperfect work

Feedback became a friend, not a threat.

A “no” stopped feeling like rejection and started feeling like information.

And information builds discernment.

If You Love Too Many Things, Try This This Week

Here are a few gentle, practical starting points:

✨ Option 1: Split the Playground

Give each style its own container:

• One sketchbook for minimalist/decorative work

• One sketchbook for story-driven illustration

Let each space be cohesive on its own.

✨ Option 2: Repeat One Subject Three Times

Draw the same subject:

• In three styles

• Or with three color palettes

• Or using three tools

Notice which version feels the most alive in your body.

✨ Option 3: Stay With One Piece Longer

Instead of starting something new:

• Recreate it again

• Adjust one variable

• Refine, don’t abandon

Repetition builds confidence faster than novelty.

Style Is a Byproduct, Not the Starting Point

If there’s one thing I want you to remember, it’s this:

Style comes from consistent choices made in motion, not from waiting until you feel ready.

You don’t need to choose one love.
You need to choose a container.

And then let your preferences reveal themselves.

Want to Watch This Process Unfold in Real Time?

Inside my Patreon, I’m currently building an ongoing collection called Moonrise Menagerie: a year-long series exploring woodland worlds, mythic animals, and the subtle magic of time passing.

If you join before the end of February, you’ll receive:

• The February postcard and/or sticker

• Behind-the-scenes process

• How I make cohesive choices without forcing style

If you love woods, magic, and watching a world come together piece by piece, you’ll feel right at home.

Come along for the journey here!

Why You’re More Ready Than You Think: A Love Note to Artists Who Doubt Themselves

My open letter for the creatives wondering if they’re behind, or not good enough…

Dear Artist,

If you’ve been quietly wondering whether you’re too far behind, not talented enough, or still too unclear to really step into your dream as an artist, I want you to know something from the deepest part of my heart:

You are more ready than you think.

I know those thoughts. I’ve had them too. The ones that whisper:

• “What if I’m not good enough to sell my work?”

• “My style isn’t clear enough yet…”

• “There’s still so much I need to learn.”

• “Other artists are miles ahead of me.”

They sound so logical. So reasonable. So convincing.

But just because a thought feels true doesn’t mean it is.

In fact, I want to gently offer this:
Self-doubt often shows up right before we’re about to grow. Not because we’re failing, but because we’re expanding.

Growth feels unfamiliar.

You might be standing in the middle of your next level right now and not even know it because you’re still waiting for it to feel safe. Or perfect. Or polished.

But here’s the truth:
Your style is not hiding from you. Nope, not even close.
Actually, it’s being shaped by everything you’re doing right now.

All those quick sketches? They’re helping.
Every unfinished piece? It counts.
And all the tiny decisions about what colors, textures, and characters you’re drawn to? That’s your style, showing you where it lives.

Style isn’t a mystery to be solved, it’s a pattern of preferences that emerge from action and play. It’s born from permission, not pressure.

And that voice telling you you’re not ready? That’s not your highest self.
It’s a ghost of a past belief that somehow you just were not enough. That’s the part of you that wants to be perfect before it allows you to be seen, simply to protect you.

But here’s the thing...

There is someone out there right now who is looking for the exact kind of art that only you can create, the kind that hasn’t been “overworked,” or “over-trained,” or “perfected” into something generic or robotic.

They’re looking for your color sensibility.
Those quirky lines you love to draw.
Your tender characters.
They are looking for your perspective and voice.

And they will only find it if you keep going.

Gentle Journal Prompt

Take a deep breath, and ask yourself:

What if I’m not behind at all? What if I’m exactly where I’m meant to be and my dream is already unfolding through me?

Let that question sit in your body.
Then, just write. Let it move through you.

Affirmation to Keep Close

“Every piece I create brings me closer to the artist I’m becoming. I don’t have to be perfect, I just have to keep showing up.”

Keep Growing with Me

If this letter landed in your heart, there are a few beautiful ways you can walk this creative path more deeply with me:

• 🎨 Patreon: Join my behind-the-scenes art journey from sketches to finished pieces, and receive monthly rewards like stickers, postcards, and art prints that carry intention and magic.

• 🌙 Starlight Dream Lab (Free Tool): Discover your big creative dream helping to anchor it into your nervous system. This tool is for artists who feel something BIG inside, but can’t quite name it yet.

• 🌟 Epic Year Express: A self-paced workshop that helps you turn your big soul-aligned dream into a strategy you can actually follow. Especially made for sensitive creatives and intuitive thinkers.

Final Thought

If you can imagine the life you want to live and the art you want to make, or the world you want to build, it’s not because you’re delusional or unrealistic…

It’s because you’re being shown what’s possible.

You are a creator. You are already doing it.

And no matter where you are in the journey, someone out there is grateful you haven’t given up.

💖
With love & belief in you,
Therese

How to Develop a Growth Mindset as an Artist (And Why It’s More Important Than Talent)

“Cocoa Cafe” by Therese Tucker for #tinseltown2025 challenge.

There’s a quiet revolution that happens when an artist shifts from asking, “Am I good enough?” to asking, “How can I grow from this?” That’s the difference a growth mindset can make. In this post, I want to share what this shift looks like in real time: the messy, hopeful, vulnerable truth about creating art when your inner critic is loud, your skills are evolving, and your dreams are huge.

Whether you're in a season of expansion or frustration, I hope these thoughts will help you reconnect to your creative path and keep walking it with love.

1. What a Growth Mindset Looks Like in Real Life

For me, a growth mindset as an artist means deeply believing that my skills, talents, and voice aren’t fixed. They’re alive and expanding with every brushstroke, sketch, or creative decision I make.

Even when a piece doesn’t turn out how I hoped, I’ve learned to trust that each session sharpens my hand and my eye, and takes me one step closer to the artist I’m becoming.

2. What It Feels Like When I’m Stuck in a Fixed Mindset

Every time my inner critic flares up, I know I’m brushing up against a fixed mindset. It’s that harsh, “reasonable-sounding” voice that tells me my work isn’t good enough, or that someone else’s style or polish means I should just quit trying.

Recently, while working on the #TinselTown2025 challenge, a cozy Christmas village illustration series, my self-doubt came in fast. I love this style of work, but I don’t feel confident in it yet, and my inner critic had a lot to say about how “wrong” it all looked.

Fixed mindset thinking makes you feel like you’re trapped in a box, with only one “right” way to make art. And that’s a lie.

3. How I Shift Back into Growth Mode

When I catch myself spiraling, I remind myself: This is just one piece. It’s not the defining moment of my career. It’s one brushstroke in a much bigger picture.

I also work with my nervous system with a few deep breaths, a body shake, a little movement to get my energy flowing again. I remind myself that moving the body helps move the mind.

Growth lives in motion, not perfection.

4. A Trick That Helps Me Regain Perspective

When things start feeling visually or emotionally “off,” I give myself permission to walk away. Distance softens the critical voice and resets your eyes.

Sometimes, I even invert my body by hanging my head over the edge of the bed upside down or do a stretch to literally shift my view. It sounds simple, but changing how you look at your work helps you feel differently about it too.

5. To the Artist Who’s Feeling Behind…

Have compassion for yourself. You feel this way because you care deeply. That’s a beautiful thing.

If your vision feels far away, know that most dreams are made up of tiny steps, not giant leaps. There are days when I can only sketch for 5 minutes. But that 5 minutes helps me feel my momentum.

If I showed up today, then I’m closer to my dream than I was yesterday. And so are you.

6. Want Support for Your Creative Growth?

If this post resonated, you might love some of the spaces I’ve created to support other sensitive creatives:

• 🎨 Follow my journey on Patreon — See my collections unfold, get exclusive access to stickers, postcards, behind-the-scenes process, and more.

• 🌠 Try the free Dream Lab — My guided tool to help you clarify your soul-aligned “North Star” so you can turn big dreams into grounded direction.

• 🌙 Join the Epic Year Workshop — This workshop turns your soul-aligned dream into a 12-month creative strategy rooted in nervous system alignment, numerology + your progressed moon.

Final Thoughts

You don’t need to be perfect to be powerful. You don’t need to be the most polished to be on your path. You just need to keep showing up.

If you’ve been looking for a sign to keep going — this is it.

When the Collection Finds You

Meet “Knives Meow” from my Scary + Sweet Collection.

Reflections on unexpected inspiration, “ugly” sketchbooks, and letting the art take the lead

Every October, the art world lights up with prompt challenges. From #Inktober to #Peachtober to smaller niche lists, the community energy is high—and this year, I joined the #ScaryandSweet2025 challenge on Instagram (hosted by @roymeister, @heathermuellerdesign, @heyalissandra, @jenprocreates, and @jessmillerdraws). I entered with one small intention: use a single color palette for the month.

That’s it. No plan, no vision, just show up and make art.

And then… something happened.

After creating my first prompt piece ("sweet + sharp"—a kitten baring its claws, framed in Victorian wallpaper), I took a totally different approach with my second. It fell flat. It didn’t feel like me. So I reworked it using the same structure as the first—and suddenly, something clicked.

A collection had quietly started forming without my permission.

Every piece since then has followed the same loose format: a wallpapered background, a central frame, and a character. Each one rooted in the theme of the prompt, but shaped more by feeling than logic. I’m not even usually drawn to spooky or Halloween-inspired art, but working with these themes has given me more creative freedom than I expected. I’m chasing texture. I’m sketching in a deliberately “ugly” sketchbook. I’m letting go.

And more than anything—I’m letting the art tell me what it wants to become.

Growing Out Loud

There’s something awkward about evolving your style in public. I look back on old work and sometimes feel disconnected. Some pieces still feel true. Others feel like echoes of another artist—or like I was just following a tutorial. There’s pride, sure, but there’s also cringey vulnerability.

Still—I’m glad I kept sharing.

I believe art that truly moves people doesn’t come from strategy. It comes from surrender. From being the channel. When you let go of the outcome and simply prepare the space—your art will meet you there.

💌 Want to See the Collection?

You can view the first 5 pieces of this evolving series over on Instagram at @starthistle.and.quartz. Want to help me vote on which piece becomes the October Patreon reward? Come join me on Patreon where this collection is unfolding in real time—postcards, stickers, and behind-the-scenes process videos included.