Why You Should Let Go and Make Art, Even If You're Not Good at It

Hi. Welcome to Bloom Anywhere. I'm Gwen Moran, a writer, editor, author, and problem-solver. My goal is to share information, ideas, and resources to help you overcome obstacles, reach your goals, and find more joy in life, even when things are messy. Thanks for joining me. (If you got this from a friend, subscribe here: Bloom Anywhere.) I'd love your feedback and suggestions for future topics. Please send me an email: connect@bloomanywhere.com.

Remember, back in the days of the pandemic, when folks were experimenting with painting and baking sourdough bread? (Shockingly, that was nearly six years ago.)

During that period, I wrote a popular piece for Fast Company entitled “Now Is a Great Time to Make Some Mediocre Art.” The piece included study findings that making art—music, painting, writing, photography, drawing, and other disciplines—is good for our bodies and minds. One researcher found that subjects’ cortisol levels were lower as they made art and for at least 45 minutes afterward.

Maybe.

Artistic Blocks

While I have been told I have a way with words, I fall squarely into the “mediocre” category when it comes to other creative pursuits. At one point, I made jewelry—big, chunky beaded pieces that ranged from “that’s kind of pretty, and it matches my outfit” to truly questionable combinations of colors and materials. For a while, I was painting mandalas. But both pursuits require either a dedicated art space or a lot of time spent packing and unpacking supplies. (Cats—or, at least, my cats—are tempted by shiny baubles and paint containers.) Sketching was easier to manage, but I found that when the sketchpad was out of sight, it was also out of mind. And when I tried knitting, I found making even stitches so frustrating that I worried about what I might do with the needles.

So, while the scientists said that creative practice would be good for me, the obstacles to doing so were vexing. Each came with a measure of frustration, either in the time it took to prepare and clean up or in learning how to do it in the first place. In addition, and probably foremost, I wasn’t good at them, so it felt like I was wasting the time I spent.

Practice Is Perfect

But recently, I might have had a breakthrough at an “art club” in nearby Asbury Park, New Jersey. The concept is interesting: book a two-hour time slot and, when you arrive, you can pick an art “experience” or project from a menu. All supplies are provided and a couple of staffers are there to help guide you through if you have questions. But, beyond that, you’re largely on your own, thrown into the pool left to swim in your artistic ability.

I went with two friends. One chose to create a carved dove stamp. The other chose to create a mosaic frame. And I chose the watercolor experience. Other options included painting pottery, making beaded bracelets, drawing with charcoal and pastels, and several others.

Within minutes, our supplies arrived at our table, and we got to work.

At first, I stared at the blank pieces of paper and the palette with a half-dozen dots of watercolor paint, unsure how to begin. I turned to a nearby book about watercolor painting for inspiration and used my brush to place drops of water on the paint dots, creating colorful little puddles. As I put the first bit of paint on my paper, one of the staff members said to me, “Try wetting the paper first. The colors will be different.”

Great, I thought. I already messed it up.

I took a different brush and wet the paper. The blue streak of paint I had just applied lightened and spread. It looked like water. I decided to go with that and began painting a river. Then, mountains. Soon, I had a very rudimentary landscape.

Let me tell you now that watercolor painting is hard. Getting the right color depth is tricky. Too much water and the color is weak. Too little, and you’ve got a jarring hue.

But, as I experimented with the paints, it felt like their complexity was a sort of dialogue. They told me what they needed. If the color was too dark, I applied more water. If the color was too light, I applied a new layer to deepen it.

Soon, I found myself absorbed in the experience. I tried to replicate a painting from the book, but mine looked entirely different. Amateurish. And that was fine. My perfectionistic tendencies were hushed by the paint’s hues. Unlike so many other things in my goal-focused, results-driven life, in this painting experience, the process mattered more than the outcome. Just being in a welcoming space, making my mediocre art, surrounded by friends, was the entire point.

I’m sure my cortisol levels were low for more than 45 minutes.

How Do You Express Your Creativity?

Do you have a creative practice or make art? I’d love to know what you do. Send me an email message to connect@bloomanywhere.com.

Bloom Drops

Things I want to share with you.

Making art—affordably: This directory of art resources offers ideas and links for everything from finding free or low-cost art supplies to accessing free images and art classes.