On Hating What you Make

I consistently make things that I hate.

There’s this weird assumption that if you’re an artist, everything that comes from your hands must be beautiful and perfect, and, well, art.

It’s not.

I make a lot of shitty work. Usually that shitty work doesn’t see the light of day. A lot of the time it sees the darkness of the trash bin, and that’s that.

But I’m really trying to put in an effort to show you the reality of being an artist. Some days are completely frustrating. Some days my hands don’t cooperate and can’t execute what’s in my head.

This stupid turtle was one of those days. It took me a damn hour to make this thing that I hate.

I meticulously drew each part with a micron pen and filled it all in with watercolor. I had a vision in my head of what this turtle would look like, and it doesn’t. It doesn’t even come close.

At first my temptation was to crumple it up and throw it out. But you know what? I’m keeping it. I keep a lot of my crappy pieces as a constant reminder that not every day and not every session is going to be good.

I learned a lot from this single one hour session. The frustration I feel toward my hands and my paints is still there, but the lessons are too.

Being an artist is constant, never ending growth. You’re never the best you’re going to be, you’re always learning and growing, every single day.