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Why I Stopped Treating Studio Time Like Free Time

  • Jul 12
  • 4 min read

Updated: 22 hours ago


There have been plenty of times when I intended to make art and did something else instead.


Plenty.


Sometimes the interruption was legitimate. Work needed attention. My kid needed me. My mother needed help. Other times I was tired and scrolling felt easier. The scroll gave me a little dopamine hit and asked nothing of me.


Creating asks something.


It asks us to act. To make decisions. To tolerate uncertainty. To stay present.

It asks us to feel. 


For a long time, I treated studio time for artists as optional. It was something I would get to after I had taken care of everything and everyone else. In other words, I treated it like leftover time.


The problem was...there was rarely anything left over.


The Real Problem With “I’ll Get to It”


Creating is a form of self-care, and that kind of time tends to be the first thing to go when life gets busy.


Why?


Because studio time is usually beholden to no one but ourselves.


Nobody is waiting for the painting to be finished, usually. Nobody sends a reminder that says, “You were supposed to spend an hour sewing tonight.” If I skip it, there is no immediate consequence. No one is disappointed. Nothing catches fire.


Then months pass, and my sister asks, “Are you painting?” and I realize I haven’t painted in two months.


Choosing to make art means choosing not to do something else. 


Consciously.


Prioritization. That is adulthood.


There will always be other ways to use the time. Laundry. Work. Errands. Family. Television. Scrolling. Cleaning something that is already clean enough.


The problem was not that I had no time. The problem was that I believed every other claim on my time was more legitimate than making art.


“I’ll get to it” sounds hopeful, but it is not a plan. It puts art at the bottom of a list that will never end.


Studio Time for Artists Isn’t Leftover Time


There is nothing like the act of creating.


You take a thought, a concept, an image, or a design that exists inside you and give it form outside yourself. When you have experienced that regularly, you know what it adds to your life.


You progress on projects. You view the world differently. Sparks of creativity find you more often. Your skills sharpen. Creating starts to feel easier and more habitual.

You build momentum.


Then life gets hard. Time and people demand that you pay attention elsewhere, and the first thing to go, usually right after the workouts, is the creative practice.


Once I started thinking about this differently, I realized studio time could not remain something I did only when I happened to have free time.


Free time is accidental.


Studio time needs to be intentional.


That does not mean it has to be rigid, joyless, or overly scheduled. It means I have to consider the time before it arrives. I have to decide that it matters. I have to give it a place instead of hoping it somehow appears.


The shift is simple:


Not, “I’ll make art when I have time.”


But, “This is the time I have chosen to make art.”

Pintrest image of craft paint and pin "Why i stopped treating studio time as free time"
Revamp Your Creative Routine: The Importance of Valuing Studio Time as Productive Work

How I’m Learning to Protect It Now


I am still working on this.


I have had seasons when I was in a wonderful groove. I learned quickly, developed new series, created some of my best work, and felt connected to my practice.


I have also had long stretches when I barely made anything. If I’m honest, some of those stretches lasted over a year.


That is why I no longer think protecting studio time means waiting for a free Saturday or carving out three uninterrupted hours. That expectation creates its own kind of friction: If I cannot do it perfectly or for a long block of time, I am tempted not to do it at all.

Instead, I am learning to start smaller.


I can put thirty minutes on the calendar.


I can decide beforehand what I want the session to be about.


I can pull out the supplies so I do not spend half the time looking for what I need.


I can treat sitting in the chair as the win, instead of judging the session by what I finish or what I didn’t do well.


Most importantly, I can stop talking about studio time as though it is an indulgence I have to earn.


It is a commitment I make to myself.


That does not mean I will never move it. Life has seasons. Work becomes demanding. Aging parents need us. Children need our presence. Sometimes rest is the right choice.

But there is a difference between consciously rescheduling something and quietly letting it disappear.


The real habit is not just making art. It is learning to protect the time before something else automatically takes it.


Start by Claiming One Session


You do not need to overhaul your calendar or promise yourself that you will make art every day.


Choose one small block of time this week.


Put it on the calendar. Decide what you will do. Prepare what you need (that doesn’t mean you need to buy more supplies…use what you have). Then show up for the time you chose.

The win is not how much you produce.


The win is keeping the appointment with yourself.


My free Studio Session Guide will help you plan the time, reduce the friction around beginning, and make it easier to return for the next session.


I’m going to put a Studio Session on the calendar. You could too.


PS If you want even more support with starting (or restarting a fruitful art practice, I offer a free 5-day email-led challenge here. It's a great way to get back into the swing of making art with guidance. Join us!)

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