Is It Done Yet?
The invisible vibe is your guide.
On long car rides, my parents set firm ground rules. Chief among them: no asking “Are we there yet?”
That rule probably arose because the question always came out with a weensy whine—especially after eight hours of elbowing your siblings in the back of the Oldsmobile.
The question, though seemingly innocent, carried a kind of invisible vibration. A signal.
And if you’ve started tuning into vibes the way I have, you’ll know—beneath that question often lives something else. A worry. A wormy little what-if that burrows under the skin.
When an artist asks, “Is it done yet?”—especially out loud, especially to someone else—it’s hard to gauge that vibe.
Are they asking from curiosity, a true desire to explore more?
Or are they longing for the relief of being finished, hoping to arrive at the destination where they can finally exhale and enjoy the view?
Let’s explore how you might reply, especially if you want to truly witness and support your creative friend.
1. You could offer suggestions of what to try next.
After all, they did ask, right?
But wait—remember the vibe. Chances are, it’s antsy. They don’t want you to grab the paintbrush and dollop on your favorite cerulean, no matter how lovely your pop of blue might be.
They might just want to be told it's okay to rest.
2. You could go with a gentle default:
“This is great, love.” Or “Looks done to me!”
And yes, that might calm their creepy-crawlies. A bit.
But let’s go deeper, back into the vibe. Let’s see if we can strike a richer chord.
3. Reframe the question.
Instead of responding to the symptom, listen for the soul.
Maybe they’re not asking, “Is it done?”
Maybe they’re asking, “Is it working?”
Or even more tenderly: “Can you feel what I’m trying to say?”
The deepest desire in the artist’s heart isn’t just to finish.
It’s to make you feel something. To crack open a sensation you hadn’t noticed before. To let you walk away subtly reshaped.
So ask yourself:
What is this piece expressing?
How has it touched me?
Can I reflect that back with love?
Now you're ready to offer something more meaningful, more resonant.
It might sound like:
“I find your use of texture here so evocative. It feels like a worn sofa cradling your subject—except look at her hands, the tension in them. And those shadows around her eyes? They make her feel haunted. You’ve got my heart pulled in.”
That’s the kind of rocket fuel artists run on.
So next time you're tempted to stir engagement by asking “Is it done yet?”—pause. See if there’s a better question trying to emerge.
Maybe it sounds more like:
How does this piece make you feel?
Would you share your “mood board” read on this painting?
I’m adding finishing touches—what three words come to mind when you see this?
These are the kinds of questions that help us all ascend a little.
Because when we reflect each other’s brilliance with care, we don't just arrive—we expand.