Into the Unknown: Choosing Art, Choosing Courage
- Amelia Elizabeth
- Sep 16
- 2 min read

The unknown is scary. It always has been. It’s human nature to feel that tight grip of fear and anxiety when we step into uncharted waters. For me, deciding to leave my full-time job to become a full-time artist was exactly that, an act of stepping off the map and into the wilderness.
Fear, though uncomfortable, carries something powerful: possibility. Within that nervous uncertainty lives growth, discovery, and the chance to meet yourself in ways you never could have if you’d stayed safe. I’ve learned that bravery doesn’t mean being fearless; it means doing the thing even though your hands are shaking.
When I finally listened to my heart, I realised it had been whispering to me for years. My love for the natural world, the creatures I sketch and paint, the joy I feel when I lose myself in creating, those weren’t hobbies; they were my compass. Following that compass meant risking security, predictability, and the steady rhythm of a monthly paycheck. But it also meant stepping into alignment with who I really am.
And here’s the surprising thing: once you leap, you start to see that your gut knows more than your fears. There’s a deep wisdom in those instinctual nudges, an inner voice that says, yes, this is terrifying, but it’s also exactly where you’re supposed to be. Trusting that voice has become my anchor when self-doubt comes knocking (and it does, regularly).
The truth is, becoming a full-time artist isn’t just about painting. It’s about courage. It’s about showing up in uncertainty and creating anyway. It’s about finding bravery not only on the canvas but in life itself, choosing the unknown, and trusting that the path will reveal itself one brushstroke at a time.

So while the unknown is intimidating, it’s also alive with possibility. By embracing fear, following your heart, and trusting your instincts, you just might stumble into a life richer and more authentic than you ever imagined.
That’s what I’m discovering, day by day, with paint on my hands and courage in my pocket.




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