The problem with art

Long time, no post. I guess I’ve been caught in a web of life events, changes, and of course, bipolar swinging moods.

Today I want to reply to a question: why is my blog name ‘theproblemwithart’? Well, I am a creative person, but at the same time I am very practical and love research. To give you an idea about this, before I decided to follow the creative path, I prepared myself for medical school. I think that I would have done a good job in the field because I am blessed with a great capacity of retaining information and a hunger for research and finding solutions. I am now studying a challenging discipline and I love it,even if I had to take a semester off so I can concentrate on my mental health. I guess I kind of got sidetracked from the conversation, please excuse me, this is how my mind works these days.

So, the problem with being a creative person, or at least how I experience it, is that the capacity to create, the ideas, the productivity, they all fluctuate. When I am down I have brain fog and holding a pencil or a paintbrush is almost impossible. Some people thingk that depression can fuel your art, but it’s not the case with me. Holding a pencil or a paintbrush is almost impossible in the conditions when moving one’s body is almost impossible. When I am experiencing my highs, I have so many ideas and my creative energy is at its highest, but I can’t finish any of my projects because the thoughts and ideas are so fast and make me jump from an idead to the next and so on…So, usually, I end up with drawings, renders, and sketches that somehow contain the essence of what I wanted to express, but not being able to complete one piece of work is frustrating and sometimes makes me angry to the point I want to destroy everything I created.

So…this is the problem with art. At least with my art.

PS: I uploaded my first selection of sketches online today. I am excited, yet anxious.

PPS: I am really thinking to put a name on this blog and my story. I am thinking to disclose my identity and help advocating for the people struggling. I am afraid that I am going to be a victim of the stigma, though. Is this going to affect me in getting a job? Are people going to stalk me? I am maybe too worried, but I have to ask these questions before making the decision. What do you think? What is your experience?




What inspires you? For me, visiting new places, especially art museums and art galleries, coffee places, bookstores, historical buildings, forests, fields, lakes…I got a bit carried away here, excuse moi!

Today I visited a fantastic museum dedicated to the work of people with mental disorders. It was a great experience. As an art lover, creative individual and also having a mental disorder, the place was on my list for a long time. Today I felt well enough and capable enough to travel there. I enjoyed every bit of work. I found it special because it spoke to me on so many levels. I could absorb the energy, expression and passion in each one of the pieces.

If you find yourselves in Germany, maybe put this little museum on your list. I think you will enjoy.

When I see art, I want to make art. I used some of my digital sketches as well as one ink drawing I enjoyed so much creating. I put them together in this little piece I call “Complicated Mind”. All rights reserved, all wrongs reserved.

Let me know what you think 🙂



I am tired. It’s been a long and mostly sleepless night followed by waking up early today. Although I’m not feeling my best, I am grateful. My bedroom was not my world today. I got out of the house, got to breathe cold, fresh air. I have been where I was supposed to be and I am grateful for this.

It’s the good kind of tired. That tiredness that doesn’t make you sleep forever or give up on everything. It’s that tiredness that lures you to make yourself a cup of tea and smile a little when thinking about the day. A sweet kind of tiredness.

Soundtrack of today: Morcheeba- Enjoy the ride


“I don’t care” is a lie that I told so many times. Why do I choose to walk away from things instead of confronting them and why do I keep telling that I don’t care when it’s clear that I do?

I wish that one day I will have the courage to leave my heart unprotected and the fear of getting hurt or me hurting others will disappear. Until then…I will try to detach myself.

While in this state, I am distant. I still care, though, quite a lot. I think people would know if they would really look because my colours didn’t change. I am the same person they knew before learning that I am going through a difficult journey. I am the same person I have always been,but if you can’t handle me…then you can walk away.

“But I never changed a single color that I breathe
So you could have tried to take a closer look at me” –Of Monsters and Man, Organs