If You’re a Happy Artist and You Know It, Clap Your Hands

Lately, I’ve been writing a lot about the hard parts—the grief, the overwhelm, the creative starts that stall out.

And that’s real.

Life is made up of 50% positive emotions and 50% negative emotions.

It doesn’t mean that every day is exactly half-good and half-bad.

It means that being human includes both:

• Joy and disappointment

• Peace and anxiety

• Love and loss

• Creativity and resistance

50/50 teaches us that we don’t have to resist the hard parts—because they’re part of the ride, not a sign that something’s gone wrong.

I want to talk about this half—the joy. The happiness.

The part we’re sometimes afraid to name because it feels too soft, too simple, or maybe even too good to trust.

I felt that joy this week.

And I almost missed it.

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Here’s what happened:

I flew from Southern California to Hartford, Connecticut—four months after surgery—to attend a live workshop with one of my favorite artists, Wendy Brightbill.

She doesn’t teach in-person often, and when my friend Kathleen told me about the workshop, something in me lit up.

I signed up fast.

And then I panicked.

Who am I to do this?
I’m 69.
Shouldn’t I be resting, staying home, doing something more reasonable?

The self-doubt was loud.

The inner critic packed itself right in my carry-on.

But I kept going.

And now I’m here. In Connecticut.

Feeling completely and quietly… happy.

Not because I made something impressive.
Not because I finished a course.
But because I kept a promise to myself.

I followed that small spark.
I let it matter.
And I showed up.

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That’s the joy I want to talk about.

Not the fireworks kind.

The quiet kind that says:
I’m still here.
I still want things.
And I can trust myself to move toward them.

Because that’s the other truth behind all the unfinished art courses and unopened supplies:

We’re not just looking for progress.

We’re craving self-trust.

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We want to believe that if we say we’ll paint, we’ll paint.

That if we feel inspired, we’ll honor it.

That we don’t abandon ourselves every time life gets busy, messy, or uncertain.

Self-trust isn’t built through force or pressure.

It’s built through one gentle yes at a time.

Saying yes to buying the course.
Yes to watching the first lesson.
Yes to messing up a page and showing up again tomorrow.

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If you are like me and you’ve been stuck in a loop of not starting, or starting and stopping—don’t beat yourself up.

Just start again.
Smaller this time.
Kinder.

More rooted in joy than guilt.

Because every time you make something…

Every time you sit down and say, this matters to me,

You’re not just making art.

You’re making trust.

You’re making joy.

You’re making a life that includes you.

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I used these reflective prompts to deepen my connection to joy, self-trust, and my art practice. If it worked for me it will work for you!

Creative Trust Writing Prompts

1. Remember the Joy

• When was the last time I felt quietly happy while making something? What was I doing?

• What does joy look like in my creative life right now? What does it need more of?

• What colors, textures, or materials make me feel most alive when I work with them?

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2. Rebuild Self-Trust

• What promises have I made to myself around my art—and how have I kept them, even in small ways?

• When have I shown up for myself creatively, even when it wasn’t convenient?

• What does it mean to trust myself with my creativity, even if I don’t finish something?

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3. Begin Again with Kindness

• What would it look like to make art from joy instead of guilt this week?

• What is one tiny promise I can make and keep to myself this week?

• How do I want to feel after creating today? What’s one small step that could help me feel that way?

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You don’t have to do them all.

Pick one. Sit with it. Let it guide you back to what matters.

This is how we return—by showing up one moment at a time.

Love,
Lynn
Make art ~ Be happy.

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