Originality is often seen as the holy grail of creativity. Artists, writers, and creators across disciplines constantly chase the feeling of creating something “new,” something that hasn’t been done before. But is true originality even possible? And more importantly—does it really matter?
What is Originality? Personal hypothesis.
Originality is often perceived as the creation of something entirely new, untouched by prior influences. However, can anything truly be original? Every thought, concept, or artistic expression is inevitably shaped by prior experiences, cultural contexts, and the collective knowledge of humanity. Rather than an isolated act of invention, originality may instead be a synthesis—a reconfiguration of existing ideas through a unique personal lens. It is not the absence of influence but the presence of an individual’s interpretation and emotional depth that defines true originality.
In this sense, originality is less about making something that has never been done before and more about creating something that feels authentically one’s own. The pursuit of pure originality can be a misleading goal, one that might stifle creativity rather than foster it. Instead, embracing the interconnectedness of ideas and allowing influences to filter through one’s perspective can lead to truly meaningful and resonant work
The Anxiety of Influence
Many creators, myself included, struggle with the idea of being derivative or being labeled as an artist whose work resembles someone else’s. When I started my career, I didn’t think much about this, but as I gained visibility, I noticed that my work or expression was often compared to past artists. It’s not just about the visual style or technique—it’s about the messaging behind the work. The ideas and thoughts that I express are often worlds apart from those of the artist I am compared to.
The development of taste in imagery is a complex process, blending intellect and intuition—something I refer to as “taste.” Early in one’s creative journey, this taste is often shaped by the media and influences you are most exposed to. There’s no way around this, especially when you’re starting out in the creative world. To learn, you often copy what you admire. Whether you’re mimicking an artist’s work to understand their process or drawing inspiration from nature, you’re a co-creator of existing material. But the key question is: Is there something more than just an outline? Can your work provoke new thoughts or discoveries?
The Trap of Chasing Uniqueness
Some creators fall into the trap of obsessively avoiding anything that might remotely resemble existing work. This can lead to creative paralysis—never finishing anything because it “feels too much like something else.” Ironically, in trying too hard to be original, you may stifle your own voice.
From my own experience, I’ve found that the pursuit of “something new” can often lead to lackluster, abstract work. It can result in over-designed pieces that feel like a mishmash of techniques and ideas that don’t come across clearly. Or, conversely, the work may feel underdone—preoccupied with base layers or the underpainting. In this state, meaning becomes attached to nothingness, and you end up in a loop of pre-burnout, where you’re pushing to create, but it feels more like you’re just making for the sake of making.
Finding Freedom in Letting Go
What if, instead of obsessing over whether our work is original, we focused on making it authentic? A personal touch—one’s unique experiences, emotions, and imperfections—can make even familiar ideas feel fresh. As someone who creates daily, I can relate to the feeling of revisiting the same themes over and over again. It can feel dull and repetitive, but it’s important to recognize that this process is natural. Once you’ve mastered your tools and moved beyond copying others, you may find yourself feeling like you’re just repeating your own work.
This phenomenon is a part of the creative journey, and it’s best to embrace it positively. It brings you one step closer to your next piece or a deeper understanding of your work. It’s natural to return to the same themes and styles over time; it doesn’t mean you’re stuck. It’s simply part of the cycle of learning and evolving.
Moreover, just because something is working doesn’t mean it’s automatically great. Often, we assume that a piece of work is successful simply because it’s being embraced, but this can lead to chasing something you don’t fully understand—repeating patterns in an attempt to replicate what’s successful without knowing why it worked in the first place. My advice: don’t fall into this trap. It leads to burnout and confusion. Focus on what matters—your true voice—because great work, no matter how flawed, imperfect, or raw, will always find a way to shine.
Final Thought
Maybe the question shouldn’t be, “How do I create something original?” but rather, “How do I create something that feels true to me?” The most powerful works are often those that resonate on a human level, regardless of whether they’ve been done before.
