I started coloring the first couple of pages of my new coloring book, Draw Your Own Adventure, from Chloe Rose Art. The paper quality impressed me immediately—it took multiple layers of colored pencils well, which is a huge plus for blending.

This simple act of coloring led me down an unexpected path of reflection. The quality of the paper inspired me to reassess the various sketchbooks accumulating in my studio. It’s quite shocking to realize that often, it isn’t the colored pencils or the paint that determines the outcome of a piece. Sometimes it’s just the quality of the paper that affects the final artwork. Of course, the skill of the artist creating the piece also factors into it.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve discovered I prefer cold press watercolor paper of 300 gsm. Meanwhile, other artists I’ve followed for years on YouTube swear by hot press paper of different weights for their watercolor pieces. Personal preference becomes artistic signature.

Yet I have so many half-finished sketchbooks with pristine pages waiting to be used. The perfectionist in me hesitates, not wanting to “waste” good paper. There’s probably a bit of scarcity mindset at work too—the irrational fear that I won’t have access to quality materials in the future.

But how could my art ever improve if I’m too scared to practice on the materials I have, even the high-quality ones I cherish? And how can I discover new effects and textures if I never experiment with different papers and media?

The Reorganization Rabbit Hole

Something else happened while coloring those first few pages: a powerful urge to reorganize… everything. I feel like much of my time lately has been spent rearranging and restructuring my living space.

What began with rearranging the furniture in my living room (as I mentioned in my last article) has expanded to organizing kitchen drawers and purging dusty, unused utensils. And when I needed downtime from that process, I turned to art. Only to realize my creative workspace needed reorganization, too. I wanted my supplies arranged for easier access, positioned according to how I naturally reach for materials while in the creative flow.

Sometimes in the midst of all this organizing and rearranging, I wonder: Am I in a state of mania? Am I avoiding something? Or am I simply procrastinating from the pressure to write this very article?

The Paradox of Paid Subscribers

It’s strange because I never felt this pressure before. Having paid subscribers for the first time has added a weight to my creative process. Suddenly, there’s pressure to be perfect in what I write, to maintain consistency with my publications.

Even though I’ve been writing for a decade, never before have I had people willing to pay for a subscription. It’s added a new layer of responsibility that I want to honor. I don’t want to be inconsistent and lose the trust of those who’ve invested in my work.

But I also don’t want to be inauthentic. I’m still developing as a writer and artist, still figuring out this platform and building an audience that resonates with what I create. I have ideas of where I want to go, but sometimes life takes us in different directions.

I really hope you’ll stick around for wherever this journey takes us. Together.

How do you handle perfectionism in your creative practice? Do you save the “good materials” for some mythical future project, or do you use what you have without hesitation? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.