I’ve been thinking about something that still makes me a little uncomfortable to admit but it looks like I’m gonna do it publicly now. For a long time, whenever I felt deeply inspired by someone’s work, there was this tiny recoil afterward. Almost like I’d been caught admiring something too closely. I’d save it, study it, maybe even feel that spark of “I want to try that,” and then right on its heels would come this harsh question about what that meant about me.
If I’m this drawn to trying it, does that mean I’m a copycat?! Does it mean that I don’t really have my own thing?
It’s subtle, but it’s enough to make ya hesitate before you even start. I’ve written before about how simply showing up to make something matters more than getting it perfect. That hesitation is usually the real block.
We talked about this inside one of the Art Nest community’s deep dive calls recently, and it turned into one of those conversations where you can feel everyone getting honest at the same time. Where you realize you’re not the only one carrying this weird little fear around.
I decided to test the whole thing in a practical way instead of just talking about it. And I did it in typical Peggy-fashion: blending prompts 😆 Prompts can either box you in or wake you up. I’ve talked about that before when I shared how to make art challenges work for you instead of against you. This felt like one of those wake-up moments. I wanted to use a source of inspiration and apply it to a challenge. And I did just that.
When I sat down to create one of our Procreate Bootcamp prompts this week, it had all the ingredients of something I know how to do. But I wanted to see what would happen if I borrowed a few ingredients from my influences instead of pretending I didn’t have any.
So before I started, I chose them on purpose:
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Influence #1: Since I was a child, before I even knew of Mary Blair, I loved her artwork. There’s something about the way her expressive shapes and bold colors that look like they’re mid-thought and full of energy and character. I wanted to borrow that feeling.
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Influence #2: I used a real photograph of a cow for obvious reasons. Well maybe not obvious, because I wasn’t aiming for realism. I just wanted the structure to feel grounded enough that the stylizing had something to push against.
- Influence #3: And then there was the prompt itself inside Procreate Bootcamp. The funny thing for me, though, wasn’t the random “must include” item, or the texture effect, or the subject matter, or the brush choices that had me stuck… What I was the most stuck with was the one part of making art that usually comes the easiest to me: the color palette! This prompt demanded cool colors, which are not my default. I tend to drift warm without even thinking. So staying in blues and greens felt restrictive in a way that made me more aware of every choice.
While I was drawing, I noticed small things. The body I sketched felt a little stiff. Not wrong, just too still for properly harnessing the influence I was trying to incorporate. When I adjusted the cow’s tail so it looked mid-swish, and gave it some little arcs for eyes, the whole piece softened and it had energy. It’s funny how something that small can shift the energy. I also caught myself wanting to pile on collage texture just because it was required in the prompt. I had to pull back and ask whether it actually belonged.
When I finished, the only thing I really cared about was that it felt like mine in a way where you recognize your own defaults showing up. The shapes I tend to simplify. The way I handle edges. The mood I lean toward without planning to.
I think that’s the part we don’t talk about enough. Your voice isn’t something you protect by staying away from influence. It’s something that reveals itself while you’re working, especially when you’re paying attention.
We’ve been pulling apart the difference between spiraling into comparison and staying in learning mode in our discussions throughout the month in the Art Nest. Naming the sentence in your head that tightens your chest and rewriting it so you can keep making. Because the goal isn’t to eliminate influence. That would be impossible anyway. The goal is to stay steady enough to keep working.
I’m curious about the artists you love a little nervously. The ones you almost don’t want to admit how much they’ve shaped your taste. What would it look like to borrow one small ingredient from them on purpose, instead of trying to outrun it?
