The Blank Canvas Stared Back At Me Mockingly
I stood before the empty canvas, paintbrush poised hesitantly over the stark white space as I waited for inspiration to strike. But as the minutes ticked by, that yawning blankness seemed to taunt me.
“Go ahead,” it seemed to say. “Try to create something truly original. I dare you.”
As an artist pursuing his passion into adulthood, I was no stranger to creative blocks. But this time felt different. I felt plagued by a paralysis of certainty — an unwillingness to make a single mark without knowing where it would lead.
I reflected on far more free-flowing creative times in my youth, when I would splash vivid color onto paper without inhibition. Back then I didn’t care if the final composition made sense to anyone else. The act itself was joy. There was no wrong turn.
But now, as I pursued painting more seriously, expectations hindered me. Both my own, and my perceptions of what “good art” should be.
With a sigh of frustration, I lowered my brush. My dog Niko seemed to sense my creative struggle from his spot on the couch. He strode over and rested his big head on my leg, brown eyes meeting mine with empathy.
Have you felt similarly stuck before a blank page or canvas? When does the possibility of making a mark feel like too much responsibility? When you become so convinced, the final output has to achieve some Platonic ideal of GREAT ART that you freeze up?
I gave Niko a grateful scratch and stepped back to study the canvas from new angles.
As I pondered the creative process, I remembered a recent museum exhibit highlighting artist’s sketchbooks through history. Page after page revealed false starts, wild experiments, and random paint smears. Behind all those iconic final paintings were volumes of “bad art.”
But those prolifically messy sketchbooks reminded me there is no right way to start. No perfect starting mark or foolproof formula. Just the willingness to make many uncertain strokes and see what emerges. To let some wild, free Associative Magic occur on the page before judgments set in.
As creators, if we demand certainty in where the first mark will lead, the canvas will stare back blankly forever.
I came to see that demanding certainty and fearing mistakes stagnates creativity. While loosening expectations grants freedom. When nothing is wrong, everything is a possibility.
A quote from music producer Rick Rubin I once read echoed in my mind:
“If you really want to be creative, you have to not know where you’re going.”*
Armed with that wisdom, I dipped my brush in vivid red paint, closed my eyes, and let intuition guide my hand. I heard rather than saw the mark take shape. My eyes remained closed as I grabbed more brushes and colors and played across the canvas.
Shapes and textures emerged — some familiar, others strange. I didn’t question any of it. After some blissfully unselfconscious time, I finally opened my eyes to examine the bizarre world I had summoned.
I could make out some semblance of a landscape with fantastical creatures. Here and there, odd faces peered out of proportion with reality. But shapes that made no sense only delighted me more. This glimpse into my unfiltered imagination and unconscious felt oddly personal. Curious characters indeed lived there!
As I added more details, I aimed to heed Rick Rubin’s advice by avoiding tight control over outcomes. I went step by step using intuition and emotion as my guide. And rather than demanding sensible landscapes, I followed curious new paths to see where they led without questioning legitimacy. I kept reminding myself that I would remain forever frozen if I demanded certainty in the outcome.
Progress flowed easily as I regularly stepped back to see what the accumulating marks inspired next, instead of over-defining where it “should” go early on. I watched patiently as an unexpected world emerged stroke by stroke.
By the end when I finally put down my brushes, exhaustion mingled with exhilaration as I took it all in. This bizarre new scene certainly captured the unpredictable magic I had hoped for!
I realized then the creative process mirrors life itself. We face that same blank canvas daily, full of possibility and uncertainty about the untrodden path ahead. Do we freeze up, demanding certainty about each next step? Or embrace the not-knowing and make playful marks toward something new, and sometimes wonderfully unexpected?
The canvas will stare back mockingly if we demand assurances before proceeding. While engaging uncertainty unlocks discovery. If we can find contentment in not knowing where the next stroke will lead, creative — and perhaps life — magic ensues.
Have you felt uncertainty paralyze possibility for you before? In art or any domain? Or found power in engaging the not-knowing path with an open mind? I’d love to hear your reflections! *Quote lightly edited for length
Thanks for reading!
