I haven’t been able to draw the way I used to, and it’s been breaking my heart.

For the last few years, my hands have been slowly betraying me.
Not dramatically. Not all at once.
Just… enough.
Enough to make every 15 minutes of drawing require two hours of recovery.
Enough to make digital work hurt.
Enough to make me wonder if I’m still “allowed” to call myself an illustrator.

And that grief?
It’s loud.
It’s confusing.
And it’s pushed me into a creative identity crisis I didn’t ask for.

So I did what any neurodivergent, chronically ill creative with a healthy dose of chaos would do: I pivoted. Fast. Hard. Messy.

When Your Body Changes, Your Creativity Has To Change Too

The unspoken truth about being an artist:
We tie so much of our worth to output.
To consistency.
To being “legit” by creating every day.

But what happens when your body says no?

I’ve been slowly losing stamina and control in my hands for years. Even computer work burns me out fast. I rely on dictation so I don’t have to type. And every time I try to push past my limits, my body pushes HARDER back.

I had to make a choice:
Stop making art… or redefine what making art looks like.

The Art Pivot I Didn’t See Coming

One night, out of frustration, I started playing with public-domain illustrations... vintage engravings, strange little medieval creatures, botanical borders, heraldic lions with too much confidence.

And something clicked.

Collaging them together felt fun, like being in art school again, but with a time machine and fewer student loans. Mixing in my own doodles, lettering, and writing? Even better.

It wasn’t “less than.”
It wasn’t a downgrade.
It was just… different.
And more importantly: it didn’t hurt.

That’s when I found Century Library, which has over 15,000 beautifully scanned, already-cut PNG assets from the public domain. Basically the exact style I’ve always wished I could draw in, and I realized:

Why am I fighting my body when I could be collaborating with artists from the 1600s?

Collage, Chaos, and Quotes: My New Creative Era

This new direction blends everything I love:

• vintage engravings

• weird little creatures

• soft gothic/alt/dark academia vibes

• collage-style layouts

• my original quotes & writing

• tiny doodles and custom lettering

• storytelling meets humor meets feral vibes

It’s the perfect mix of my limitations and my obsessions.

This is art I can make without pain.
Art I can make frequently.
Art that feels true to my style and true to my new reality.

Wait… What About Women of Illustration?

If you’ve followed me for a while, you know how much joy I get from helping other artists grow. Women of Illustration is still one of my greatest loves, coaching artists, teaching content strategy, building business systems, all the nerdy marketing backend stuff my ADHD hyperfocus thrives on.

But a secret I haven’t talked about much?
I felt like a fraud helping artists when I couldn’t draw myself.

That’s the guilt that’s been eating me alive.

But here’s what I’ve learned through this pivot:

You don’t lose your creativity just because your body changes. You don’t lose your value because your process evolves. You’re still an artist... period.

And I finally believe that applies to me too.

This Isn’t an Ending, It’s an Evolution

I can’t pretend this pivot wasn’t painful.
Losing the ability to draw the way I used to is something I’m still grieving.

But creativity doesn’t disappear.
It adapts.
It bends.
It survives.
It finds a new way.

I still love writing.
I still love doodling (in small bursts).
I still love building visuals, curating aesthetics, telling stories, and making things deeply me.

If anything, this shift lets me show up more often, without hurting myself to do it. 

Stay tuned.
It’s going to be a very fun ride.