Inspiration from Outside (and from Within)
- Feb 28
- 3 min read
In my last post, I wrote about how my artistic style didn’t appear overnight, but slowly evolved through doing. Today, I want to explore a second aspect that plays an essential role in that process: inspiration.
Style does not emerge in a vacuum. It grows from what moves us. From what we see. From what draws us in.But inspiration isn’t always purely positive. It can be a driving force — and sometimes a block.
Inspiration from Other Artists — Without Copying
I love looking at art. And I don’t just mean art that resembles my own style. In fact, I’m often most inspired by people who create something entirely different: textile artists, illustrators, graphic designers, 3D designers, motion designers — painters, sculptors, installation artists.
When I see the creativity in their work, something happens inside me. I immediately want to create. Not because I want to work exactly like them — but because their energy is contagious. Over the years, I’ve learned something important: Inspiration does not mean imitation. It means asking: What exactly touches me here? Is it the color palette? The mood? The shapes? The lightness? The depth?
Once I understand that, I can translate those elements into my own direction. That’s when something original begins to emerge.
The Shadow Side: Looking Too Much, Making Too Little
As valuable as inspiration is, it also has a downside. Sometimes the opposite happens. I see so many incredible works that I can’t even begin. Instead of motivation, a quiet thought appears: Everyone else is already so far ahead.A nd then comes that subtle, uncomfortable feeling: Am I good enough? Do I even have something of my own to say? Why does everything look so effortless for others?
That’s the moment when inspiration shifts. It stops being fuel and turns into frustration. Instagram and Pinterest can be wonderful sources. But when I notice that my gaze is no longer curious but comparative, I know I need distance. Inspiration should not make us smaller. It should expand us.
Multipotentiality: Enthusiasm as a Risk
There is another layer for me.As a multipassionate person, I get excited quickly. Sometimes too quickly. When I discover a new technique, my first thought is often: Maybe I should try that too?
Maybe that’s the better path? And that can be dangerous. It easily leads to detours that don’t truly grow from within me, but from the fear of missing out.
In the past, I took many turns that later felt like dead ends. Not because they were wrong — but because they pulled me away from what was genuinely mine. Today, I try to use inspiration more consciously. Not as an invitation to become everything. But as a mirror to see myself more clearly.
Inspiration from Nature — My Most Honest Source
The strongest and most authentic inspiration doesn’t come from online platforms.
It comes from outside. From nature. Nature doesn’t inspire me through trends or techniques. It inspires me through feeling.
Flowers in backlight. Movement in the wind. Soft blur. Colors that exist only for a fleeting moment.
Nature doesn’t ask whether something is “original enough.” It simply exists. And that calms me. My deepest intention with my art is to convey something: a sense of lightness, beauty, joy in nature. And for that, I don’t always need to analyze. Sometimes it’s enough to observe. To breathe. To be present.
Especially in everyday life, where time often feels scarce, this may be the most important reminder: Inspiration is not only input. It is presence.
Conclusion: Inspiration Should Nourish, Not Overwhelm
II think inspiration is like water. Too little — and everything dries out. Too much — and you lose your footing.
For me, a healthy relationship with inspiration means:
looking consciously
not comparing
not copying
not turning every new impulse into a new direction
and always returning to what truly moves me.
Because in the end, style does not emerge from what we consume. It emerges from what we create from it.
If you haven’t read Part 1 yet: How I Found My Artistic Style — And Why It Wasn’t a Straight Path
