I did a deep dive into my analytics with ChatGPT helping me make sense of it all. The traffic is moving in the right direction. Direct visits are climbing, and there is some recurring activity showing up now. It feels good to see. It is encouraging.
While I was going through the findings, I was also trying to create or prompt an image to go with this post. It was not working out the way I wanted. The vibe was not landing, and prompting something that actually felt right turned out to be harder than expected. I shared one of my own pieces to see if it could be cleaned up or turned into something suitable, and even then it still was not quite sitting right.
Looking at the original inspiration again, I realized the piece I had shown was one of the first images I ever posted on this blog back in August 2023. It felt fitting to bring it back as a work in progress and use it here. I have art spread across years now, and I plan to keep moving each piece forward at its own pace.
The analytics did not give me any dramatic revelation, but they reminded me that things are growing, even if the pace is slow. So I am going to keep developing, keep adding, and keep building it all out.
The last couple of days have been a strange mix of stalled energy and small breakthroughs. I’ve been wrestling with that familiar feeling where even simple steps feel too heavy. Still, I ended up sketching twice, and that feels worth slowing down to recognize.
The first sketch happened late last night. I opened my digital app thinking I’d make something loose, but digital work has a way of pulling me straight into detail. Shapes begin to unfold, lines sharpen, and before I know it I’m sinking deeper than I meant to. It wasn’t frustration with the work itself. It was the clock. I could see the tradeoff forming in real time. If I kept going, I’d shave hours off my sleep and pay for it the next day. So I stopped, not out of defeat, just practicality. I saved the sketch, put the stylus down, and let myself walk away.
This morning was different. I had only a few minutes before getting ready for the day. No plan, no pressure. I opened my sketchbook, made one simple shape, and the rest slipped out fast. This was the micro sketch ChatGPT nudged me to try. It took less than fifteen minutes and surprised me with how naturally it flowed. No overthinking, no wrestling with detail. Just movement. In some ways it felt more alive than the digital one I spent over an hour on.
What I’m learning is that momentum doesn’t always look like big progress. Sometimes it’s two sketches made under totally different conditions. One chosen by discipline. One chosen by spontaneity. Both valid and part of the same larger arc of becoming better at my craft and more consistent with my practice.
I’m posting all four images here, including the AI interpretations, partly to show the contrast but mostly to remind myself that effort counts even when the day is messy. I want to keep experimenting with these micro prompts and maybe build them into future shorts, maybe even full process videos down the road.
For now, I’m glad I showed up at all. And I’m glad something came out of it.
This past week has been a mix of progress, reflection, and a few hard truths I needed to face. I have been moving through my days with the same steady pace as always, but there has been a heaviness beneath it. Money pressures, physical discomfort, and the usual challenges seem to add up all at once.
I spent some time out in the community again. I met a couple of new people and had conversations that actually felt good. I also circled back on a few social moments where I felt like my responses were flat or off. I corrected them and it settled the tension I was carrying. Those simple interactions felt like small wins and I appreciate them when they happen.
At the same time, I noticed something else this week. I caught myself oversharing. I found myself opening up about things that are heavy, personal, and rooted in years of struggle. I talked about my history, my mental health, and my questions about autism. These are parts of my life that are real, but not everyone needs to hold them. And afterward, I felt exposed in a way that stayed with me. Other people rarely reveal that much to me. I think I forget that most people do not walk around laying out their entire story.
It made me step back and realize I need to protect certain parts of myself. Not out of shame, but out of respect for my own boundaries. Not everything needs to be spoken. Not everything needs to be explained. I want to carry myself as a competent man, someone who is steady and grounded even when life feels unsteady inside. I am learning how to share enough without handing out pieces of my burden to people who never asked for it. That reflection has been sitting with me for several days, and I felt the weight of it when I woke up this morning.
My stomach hurt and my mind was in a fog, and I could feel that same heaviness lingering from the week. But I still got up. I made my bed. I washed the dishes while the water boiled. I ate breakfast. They are simple routines, but they help keep me anchored. They remind me that even when I feel unsure, I am still capable of moving forward.
Art continues to sit in the background. I want to level up and push myself creatively, but the pressure can be overwhelming. Sometimes the next step feels unclear. Still, every small pass, every sketch, and every adjustment is part of the long arc. Progress does not always announce itself. Sometimes it moves quietly.
Today the plan is simple. A shower. A trip to the pharmacy. Some groceries if I can manage it. One small task at a time so I can set myself up for the week ahead.
If I learned anything this week, it is that I do not need to be remarkable. I just need to be present. A steady presence is enough. If I keep showing up, I will find my way.
