In order to do something well, we must first be willing to do it badly. ~ Julia Cameron (The Artist's Way)
About a year and a half ago, I stumbled across an abstract artist on Instagram named Nancy Hillis. She published a book which I’ve enjoyed immensely called The Artist’s Journey, where she addresses the mental and emotional obstacles most artists face and offers her approach to becoming a successful artist. (Success in this case is someone who shows up and does their work consistently, finds fulfillment in the process and is always seeking to learn and grow.)
Even if you’re not an artist, similar philosophies apply to starting something new or trying to get better in some way. Every time I use the term ‘ugly painting’ in this week’s meditation, please substitute that for any area in which you’d like to improve or anything new you want to try for the first time.
Artists are encouraged to experiment often and be willing to make ugly paintings. We should actually expect to make ugly work when we’re stretching ourselves. We need to consider it normal, not disappointing, and certainly not a reason to make negative judgments about our talents and abilities. Ugly paintings are to be celebrated because it means we’re pushing past our safe zone.
I love Nancy’s art journey because it parallels my own search for contentment. Nancy became proficient in painting beautiful landscapes. She would do the same variations again and again because that’s what people wanted, that’s what sold. And she was stagnant and bored.
I felt the same after spending years working in sales. My bills were paid, but my work days were robotic and unfulfilling. I knew I was meant to do more, but I was too scared to take a risk and be new at something. Thankfully, life circumstances forced me to take the leap and lean into my creative endeavors.
Great things can happen when we have no other choice but to move forward in a new way.
The way to grow in any pursuit is to seek knowledge and experiment (practice) a lot. While every experiment won't yield a desired outcome, each one does end positively, because we learn as much or more by what doesn’t work, as what does.
We try again, each time refining what worked well the last time. When we reach a satisfactory place in that pursuit, we stretch ourselves toward something else and the process starts all over again—as do the 'ugly paintings.'
What are you afraid of stepping into, or trying for the first time? What would you like to be more proficient at? What are you willing to be bad at, in order to get better?
“Things that excite you aren’t random. They are connected to your purpose. Follow them.”
~Unknown
Perhaps this is the week to start pursuing a new passion, even if it’s just doing ten minutes of research or sifting through inspirational pictures online.
Just say no to fear.
Just say no to perfectionism.
Just say no to staying comfortable.
Just say no to predictability.
Just say no to mediocrity.
Just say no to excuses.
Say yes to expansion.
Say yes to innate curiosity.
Say yes to instinctual moves.
Say yes to wonder.
Say yes to adventure.
Say yes to uncertainty.
Say yes to whatever makes your heart beat a little faster.
Currently, I’m taking Nancy Hillis’ online color course to stretch myself in how I mix and use color. Guess what? I’m making lots of ugly paintings! Reluctantly, I’m sharing one below. I’m committed to let it live a little while, before I resume painting and cover up what I don’t like. (For curious minds, this one was the result of a challenge to limit myself to three oranges, three violets, plus white, and I could mix as many variations of those as I wanted.)
The painting as a whole doesn't work yet in my opinion, but when I zoom in, there are a few slices I really love. That’s what I will work to emphasize when I go back into this.
Even an ugly painting can give us reason to trust that there’s good in everything … if we look closer.
This week, I hope you will find the courage to make an ‘ugly painting,' or move in that direction, whatever that looks like in your world. Remember, you can't ever really fail.