As artists, we desire to create good art, to create art that we care about, that we can be proud of. We pour all of our heart and soul into something that we are passionate about. We toil away, tweak and perfect, make a change here, add a dash of something there, working away without a sense of time, focusing on the work at hand — creating.

In this moment, we temporarily lose ourselves in the work. No longer are we held in the monotony of the everyday. Instead, our passion leads us into a respite, a moment of surrealism where everything around us slips away into nothingness — where only artist, and the art, remains.

We spend our time with our art. We cradle it, watch it grow and when it is ready, we release it into the world.

Or, perhaps, we don’t. Perhaps, we want to hold on for a little longer. Perhaps, the work is a secret that only belongs to the creator. Or, perhaps, we want to keep the art to ourselves, because we are too afraid of how others react. We hesitate, with a moment of worry, and wonder if no one will understand. We fear that others will disregard our work, or walk on it and remark, “this is not good enough.”

All of the love, all of the care and attention that has been put into the work, is somehow diminished in that moment.

As artists, it is so easy to fear that no one will appreciate the work that we have made. When someone disregards it, walks right past it and flocks to another piece created by a different artist, it becomes so easy to fall into the trap of comparison. We look at the other person and think to ourselves, “You’re better than me at this art. I should just stop creating since yours is the best. How can mine compare?”

Or maybe, instead of stopping altogether, you may find it better to create based on what you assume the public wants. Suddenly, the labor of love becomes simply, labor. The passion is gone, the love and care swept away like dust. You no longer create what your heart longs for. Now, you create for the reviews, the attention, the compliments. The work caters to how many shares it will receive, how many likes the post may get or how many words of praise pass by the ear.

Is this really good art? Sure, something is being made, yet there is no passion. The art is flat. The poetry, bland. The music, merely stagnant without solid intonation.

Is art without passion really good art?

Artists should create from what inspires them. If the audience does not care for it, then too bad. Art should be inspiring, beautiful, moving, inspirational, stunning, creative, loved, cherished and dynamic. It should come straight from the artist's heart. If passion in the creation fails to exist, then inspiration for future art will become scarce and slowly, cease.

And if we only copy the art that “sells,” then we fail to be true to ourselves. If another artist is succeeding, then good for them. However, that does not mean that you should stop creating altogether. Rather, keep creating. The world of art is a very diverse place. No two artists are supposed to be the same. No two artists can create the exact same work. Your work does not compare with others. Your work does not match your neighbor. You make your art, and they’ll make theirs. Neither is “better.” Neither is “worse.”

Make art because you are inspired. Make art because you love it. Make art because you have a passion. Don’t make art only because you feel like you need a certain number of “likes” on a picture, or a certain number of “shares” on a post. Make art for the mere reason that it is what you love, and that it is what you want to do.