Creative Devotion vs. Creative Hustle
We human beings put an incredible amount of pressure on ourselves—the constant grind to fit in, to be on top, or to be “the best.” Often, this noise blocks us from hearing our inner child or our inner artist.
I built a business around the “creative hustle” because, in my mind, no one hustles harder than a creator. Think about it: artists pour everything into their work. We skip meals, we sleep in spaces that aren’t always comfortable (or safe), and we often let our relationships with family and friends take a backseat to the call of the craft. We’ve all heard the stories of the “starving artist” or the tortured lover, but we do it because we know who we are. We just want to live in our purpose.
But how many of us can truly say we are living in that purpose?
Ironically, within the hustle, you often spend the least amount of time doing the very thing you love. As a professional artist, I know the reality: 90% of my day is the “business” of art—accounting, marketing, managing, web design, and sales. Until I can hire a team to balance those percentages, I am on my own, juggling the work with basic survival needs like rent and groceries.
“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion”
When I think of the word hustle, I love the fire it feeds within me—the determination and the passion. But I also feel immediately exhausted. Lately, I’ve been searching for a way to maintain that creative fire without the soul-crushing disappointment that comes when you aren’t “where you want to be” yet.
That’s when I found a better word: Devotion.
While we often associate devotion with religion, Webster’s Dictionary offers two definitions that hit home for me: Ardent affection or love and the state of being ardently dedicated and loyal.
To me, devotion feels caring and sustainable. Hustle, by contrast, can feel performative. There is nothing wrong with working hard, but it is exhausting to feel like you have to “perform” your progress every single day. Devotion creates space for patience. It’s okay with the long game. It values the process over the instant gratification that rarely comes in this line of work anyway.
So, how can we be more creatively devoted without the burnout of the daily hustle? I’m no expert, but I’ve found five art-based practices that help shift the headspace from urgency to loyalty.
Five Practices for Creative Devotion:
1. The 30-Day Return Project: Devotion through repetition
Choose one simple format and repeat it for 30 days: the same canvas size, the same palette, or the same daily prompt. No reinvention. No escalation. The goal isn’t “improvement”—it’s relationship.
Why it works: Devotion grows in the quiet repeats. You begin to notice subtle shifts instead of constantly chasing novelty.
2. The “Same Spot” Sketch Ritual: Devotion through presence
Pick one location—a corner of your studio, a specific tree, or your kitchen table—and capture it once a week for two months. Watch how the light changes. Watch how your attention changes.
Why it works: You stop searching for external inspiration and start deepening your connection to where you already are.
3. The Constraint Series: Devotion through discipline.
Set a strict boundary: only charcoal, only the color blue, or only 10 minutes of time.
Why it works: Constraints remove the distraction of “limitless choice.” You become loyal to exploration rather than the final outcome.
4. The Quiet Hour : Devotion through commitment
Set one weekly hour that is sacred. No phone, no posting, no documenting for social media. Even if you only clean your brushes or rearrange your scraps, you show up.
Why it works: Devotion is less about output and more about attendance. It’s showing up for the craft when no one is watching.
5. The Archive Project: Devotion through honoring your past
Pull out an unfinished sketch or an abandoned idea from a year ago. Redraw it, layer over it, or write a response to it.
Why it works: You treat your creative history as a living thing worthy of a return, not something to be disposed of.
Hustle demands constant proof of your worth. Devotion only asks that you return.
This week, I invite you to step away from the pressure to “produce” and instead, return to the “why.” Why did you start this journey? Why do you love it? Your craft doesn’t need you to be the best in the world today—it just needs you to be loyal to the practice.
What is one small way you can show devotion to your inner artist this week?