How I Became a Painter
A case for taking the pressure off creativity
This week I started painting.
Or should I say, I got back into painting?
But then again,
this makes me sound like I used to be a big painter,
and I wasn’t.
By that I mean,
I was never a particularly talented or natural painter.
By that I mean,
I wasn’t born with an innate unquenchable desire to paint,
nor did masterpieces effortlessly flow out of my head and onto canvas,
but I nonetheless enjoyed it.
I mean,
I took art classes in school and loved them.
I would get so absorbed in the flow of creating
that I would blink and the hour was over.
I wasn’t terrible by any means.
I was actually pretty decent,
but decent isn’t what gets deemed
talented,
exceptional,
awe-inspiring,
moving,
and the like.
Decent wasn’t enough to waste precious college semesters pursuing something that wouldn’t bring me long-term financial stability.
To be clear, no one told me to stop drawing, painting, crafting.
But society told me to prioritize making a living.
Long story short,
it’s been years since I picked up a paintbrush or sketch pad.
I had become so out of touch with the feeling of creating
for no reason other than to create something
that didn’t exist before.
Sure, I created my business.
I created my website, my podcast, my newsletter, my Instagram.
I take all those pictures and create nice words to go along with them.
And I truly love this kind of creation, too!
But there’s no denying that when we apply the pressure
of expecting something in return —
likes, attention, appreciation, money —
there’s a certain element that gets lost in the creative process.
I had forgotten what it felt like to create and expect nothing.
To create and not need it to be liked,
by even one person.
Hell, I don’t even have to like it!
I forgot that it was from this place of creating
that my real self,
my authentic self,
my imperfect self
comes through, and reminds me how good it feels to take the pressure off.
Reminds me how I don’t have to be better than I already am
to be good enough.
So this week I started painting.
Or should I say, I got back into painting?
This makes me sound like I used to be a big painter,
and I was.
By that I mean,
I wasn’t a particularly talented or natural painter,
but I loved to paint,
and that’s all being a painter requires.
