Finding Meaning as an Artist in a World That Has Forgotten How to Be Sincere

Article / 10 August 2026

Lately I've been thinking less about how to make better art and more about why I make it in the first place.

That's a strange question because, for a long time, I don't think I really had an answer.

Like a lot of artists, I spent years chasing the next technical milestone. Better anatomy. Better lighting. Better composition. Better rendering. Every new piece was supposed to prove I had improved from the last one.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Improving your craft is part of being an artist.

But eventually I realized something.

No amount of technical skill was ever going to answer the question of why I was creating in the first place.

I think that's a question a lot of artists are quietly asking right now.

We live in a world where everything moves incredibly fast. Social media wants constant content. Algorithms reward trends. AI can generate thousands of images in the time it takes us to sketch an idea. It sometimes feels like we're expected to create simply because the machine needs something new to show people tomorrow.

Somewhere in all of that, it's easy to lose sight of what made us want to create in the first place.

I've also noticed something else happening.

For years, it felt like everything had to be ironic. Every movie had to wink at the audience. Every joke needed another layer of sarcasm. Even sincerity almost became something people were embarrassed by.

Maybe that's changing.

Whether people call it post-postmodernism or something else entirely, it feels like more artists are becoming interested in building things again instead of simply deconstructing them. Instead of asking, "How can I subvert expectations?" we're asking, "What do I actually believe?"

Personally, I find that a much more interesting question.

When I sit down to paint now, I'm usually not thinking about making something that looks cool.

Of course I want the final piece to look good. Every artist does.

But I'm far more interested in whether the image says something.

Sometimes that's about identity.

Sometimes it's about technology.

Sometimes it's about loneliness, memory, hope, or the strange relationship we have with the digital world.

The painting becomes less about showing off a technique and more about exploring an idea that I haven't fully figured out yet.

I think that's one of the things art does better than almost anything else.

Art doesn't always give us answers.

Sometimes it simply gives shape to questions we've been carrying around for years.

I've started looking at my own work almost like visual philosophy.

Each illustration is an attempt to understand something that probably can't be explained with words alone.

That's why I don't worry as much anymore about whether an idea has been done before.

Every story has been told.

Every color palette has been used.

Every composition has probably existed somewhere in history.

The only thing that's genuinely original is your perspective.

No one else has lived your life.

No one else has your influences, your experiences, your failures, your successes, or the strange collection of books, movies, music, conversations, and memories that shaped the way you see the world.

That's where originality actually comes from.

Not inventing something that's never existed.

But expressing something honestly that only you could express in that particular way.

I think that's also why I don't feel particularly threatened by AI.

It's an incredible tool, and I think it's going to become part of almost every creative workflow.

But tools don't have lived experience.

They don't stay awake wondering why certain memories refuse to disappear.

They don't fall in love.

They don't lose people.

They don't struggle with purpose.

Those are the things that give art meaning.

Technique matters.

Composition matters.

Lighting matters.

But they're all in service of something much bigger.

At least, I hope they are.

The older I get, the less interested I become in creating images that simply look impressive.

I'd rather create something that makes someone stop scrolling for thirty seconds and actually feel something.

Even if they can't explain why.

Maybe that's what being an artist has always been about.

Not creating perfect images.

Creating honest ones.

You can find more of my work here:

Business Site: https://www.sevenspiritmedia.com/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@404-Nt-Found

Medium: https://medium.com/@rieleyfinn

Substack: https://substack.com/@rieleyfinn

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@sevenspiritmedia

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sparrow_finn/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sparrow_finn/_profile/

X (Twitter): https://x.com/RieleyFinn

Why Black & White Comic Layouts Still Make Better Designers

Article / 31 March 2026

There’s nowhere to hide in black and white.

No color to separate elements. No gradients to smooth things out. No lighting tricks to fake depth. You either understand composition—or you don’t.

That’s why comic page layout work, especially in black and white, is one of the fastest ways to level up as a designer.

Every decision becomes structural.

Line weight isn’t just style—it’s hierarchy.
Negative space isn’t empty—it’s intentional breathing room.
Contrast isn’t aesthetic—it’s direction.

You’re building the entire visual language from scratch.

With this piece, the goal was controlled chaos—pushing overlapping panels, breaking traditional framing, and letting motion cut through the composition instead of sitting inside it. The energy doesn’t come from color. It comes from tension between forms.

Comic layouts force you to think sequentially too. Not just what looks good—but what reads clearly. Each panel has to move the viewer forward without friction.

That’s where illustration and design collide.

You’re solving:

  • Composition
  • Story flow
  • Depth
  • Focus
  • Rhythm

All at once.

If you can make something feel dynamic in black and white, color becomes optional. And once color becomes optional, your design work gets sharper across the board.

This is less about style—and more about discipline.

More Work & Projects

Full portfolio and project breakdowns: https://rieleyfinn.com/

Design, branding, and marketing work: https://www.sevenspiritmedia.com/

Additional visual work: https://www.instagram.com/sparrow_finn/

Professional background and experience: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rieleyfinn/