Are You an Artist Today?
Every morning, the question comes back.
Are you an artist today?
Not, Are you talented? Not, Have you sold anything? Not, Do people think you're an artist?
Just... are you an artist today?
Because being an artist isn't something I became years ago. It's a decision I have to make over and over again.
Every morning, the cycle repeats.
The alarm goes off.
I go to my full-time job. It's a good job for an amazing company. It provides stability. It provides health insurance. It helps me support my family. It allows me to build a future that younger versions of myself only hoped for.
Then there are the groceries. The mortgage. The laundry. The dishes. The yard. The appointments. The hundreds of little responsibilities that quietly consume the hours between waking up and falling asleep.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that...
The battle begins.
Sometimes I win.
Lately, if I'm honest, I've lost more days than I've won.
Over the past two years, life has changed in incredible ways. I married the love of my life. We bought our first house. And now we're preparing to welcome our daughter into the world.
These aren't distractions from life.
They are life.
I wouldn't trade them for anything.
But every blessing comes with responsibility, and those responsibilities have made it harder than ever to protect the time and mental space that art demands.
It's easy to tell myself that I'll make something tomorrow.
Tomorrow becomes next week.
Next week becomes next month.
Eventually, I realize I haven't been making art.
I've only been thinking about making art.
For me, being an artist has never just meant producing paintings.
It's a way of moving through the world.
It's noticing.
Questioning.
Connecting ideas that don't obviously belong together.
Finding meaning where other people see randomness.
I've spent years drawing mazes because, in many ways, they are how I navigate life. Every twist, every wrong turn, every dead end eventually becomes part of the path forward. My artwork has never really been about solving puzzles - it's about learning to live with uncertainty long enough to discover that what looked like failure was often just another direction to explore.
Every maze is a reminder that dead ends aren't the end.
They're information.
Life works the same way.
Art is how I make sense of that.
When I'm not creating, I lose one of the ways I understand myself.
The world certainly doesn't make it easier.
Every day there's another headline demanding outrage.
Another tragedy.
Another political fight.
Another reminder that everything feels louder than it used to.
It's tempting to retreat into my own little bubble.
To scroll instead of sketch.
To watch instead of wonder.
To consume instead of respond.
Sometimes hiding feels easier than creating.
But I don't think artists are called to hide.
Not because we have the answers.
Because we're willing to wrestle with the questions.
Lately, though, something has shifted.
I've finally started making things again.
Not every day.
Not as often as I'd like.
But enough to feel momentum building.
Enough to remember that the hardest part is simply beginning.
Two new projects reignited that spark.
This series of paintings titled Are you an Artist Today?
And I'm working on a new book called From Start to Finish: The Art of Existing. Like much of my work, it uses mazes to explore life's biggest questions. It's an invitation to wander through uncertainty instead of running from it - to discover that meaning isn't found by avoiding dead ends, but by continuing to move despite them.
Ironically, writing a book about navigating life has reminded me that I still have to navigate my own.
And I've realized something.
Maybe the goal isn't to become someone who creates every single day.
Maybe the goal is simply to win today's battle.
To make one drawing.
Write one page.
Follow one idea.
Ask one difficult question.
Create one honest response to the world instead of retreating from it.
If I can do that more often this year than I did last year, that's enough.
That's progress.
So tomorrow morning, I'll ask myself the same question I've been asking lately.
Are you an artist today?
I hope the answer is yes.
Not because I have to earn that title.
But because it's the truest version of who I am.
I'm optimistic. I feel momentum returning. I feel ideas that have been sitting quietly for years beginning to speak again.
Here's to winning more days than losing.
I can't wait to show you where the next path leads.
But before I go, I'll leave you with the same question I ask myself every morning:
Are you an artist today?
Maybe you paint.
Maybe you write.
Maybe you garden, teach, build, cook, or raise children.
Whatever your medium, I hope you choose to create something instead of simply consuming the day.
Stay tuned.
— Bernie