"Confession: I don't think I can do it" (meandering thoughts on doubt, fear, not enough-ness, and the creative process)

This week someone commented on a process reel I had posted saying, “love your fearless technique.” I had to laugh. Because of course there is fear! Doubts, questions, struggle...

Am I good enough? Do I have any talent for this thing at all? Do I even like what I’m making?

These are questions that circulate around my brain quite frequently. 

In our culture, and especially online, we so often only see the perfectly curated versions of people. Their best angles, the most flattering lighting, the flawless outfit. With art it can be the same. We see the finished painting posted, marked as “sold”, and think “wow, that’s so amazing!” 

But far less often do we see the raw reality. The messy middle of making art. The blank canvas that taunts you. The doubts inside any creative person’s mind that crop up all too often saying “you really have no idea what you’re doing…” (you don’t even have to call yourself a “creative” to relate to this thought).

I don’t have any formula for combatting this experience of dealing with doubt, fear, or the creative struggle. All I know is that it IS part of the process. We ebb and flow - with energy, ideas, inspiration, focus - all of it. And that’s okay. 

What I remind myself with my art when I’m feeling low or doubting whether “I’m good enough” is how lifted up I am by other people’s creativity. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Or curated. Or professional. I’m just happy it exists. That someone was brave enough to share it. To make it in the first place. 

And yet. I’m always thinking this: I want my art to be amazing. 

Not for glory, or prestige, but for me to hang it on the wall and go, “I LOVE this” - the way I look at other people’s art. 

Lately, I’ve found myself looking around at what other people are making far too often. Yes, it’s great to gather inspiration. From museums I’ve visited, to favorite artists I follow on Instagram, to my Pinterest “Paintings” board, I am always gathering inspiration and ideas. I love that artist’s brushstrokes, or how they use color, or that scribbly thing they do. But all of this is looking outward. Instead, maybe I need to look inward. 

This week I was trying to find something to listen to on Spotify and instead of searching for a new artist or album, I decided to play music from my Liked songs. It is funny how we are always looking for the next shiny new thing. But often the best thing is right in front of us. The older songs I had saved were exactly what I wanted to listen to. And there are ones I’ve completely forgotten about. (Rodrigo & Gabriella for example. I was a huge fan back when they were new.) 

It’s so easy to forget that we already know something. Or that the best thing is what we already have.* 

And yet. There is a tension here. I want my art to improve. I want to gain more technical skills. I want to fully express the deepest, truest part of myself. I want to love what I make. But I also know that in order for this to happen I have to stop looking around at what others are doing, and trust myself. Trust my past experience. Trust the work. Trust the process.

(One thought: maybe the reason that I’m experiencing a higher than average flow of doubt at the moment is because I have been commissioned for two large paintings for a local business? Plus I have two more commissions that I’m chatting with someone about. Isn’t it fascinating how fear rears its ugly head in the midst of exciting opportunities? Someone else sees something in you and your work and the floodgates of “not good enoughness” break open…)

So many people have written about the struggle of the creative process before. I particularly love Andrew Peterson, a Christian singer-songwriter and author, who wrote about the Mystery of Making in his book titled “Adorning the Dark”. He captures the tension perfectly here: 

“I have everything I need. Everything but the songs. 

A confession: I don’t think I can do it.

I’ve done the very best I can do already, and I’m afraid that God will remove the Spirit from me, that whatever that thing is that makes the songs work, the mystical gas in the engine will be cut off, this thing will slow to a trickle and die, and I’ll put out an album that people hate… I’ve sat at the pinao for hours already, looking for lyrics and melodies, but everything sounds the same and I feel as uninspired as ever. Does it mean I’m finished? …But the truth is, I’ve been here before. Many times. We all have. So how do we find the faith to press on? 

Remember. Remember Hebrew children, who you once were in Egypt. Remember the altars set up along the way to remind yourselves that you made the journey…Once you were there, but now you are here. Remember… Trust is crucial. So is self-forgetfulness and risk and a measure of audacity.”

So I will forge ahead - with trust, risk, and audacity - and the courage to look within. I hope you will too.

*Maybe what you already have is a small creative practice. Keep going. It will grow.

Maybe you're searching for an idea for a new body of work. Flip through an old sketchbook to find the inspiration.

Maybe you feel like you're stuck in a rut emotionally. Read through an old journal to see how much progress you’ve actually made.

Maybe you feel like you don't have time/energy/health to make anything at all. Are you raising a family? Taking care of your health needs? Sleeping enough? This too, is all part of the journey and it is enough.

You’ll Never Go Back to Ordinary: Overcoming Doubt, Uncertainty, and Perfectionism through the 100 Day Project (Plus 10 Tips for a Successful Project!)

I wasn’t planning on doing the 100 Day Project this year. In fact I’m pretty sure I had decided against it in advance because it has caused me stress in years past. Doing anything for 100 Days and staying committed to that goal is hard work after all.

But then the Project rolled around and I was on vacation and I thought, “what the heck, why not do it again?” (Vacation mode must have weakened my analytical, logical brain a bit). So I jumped in. No plan really. No purpose beyond just creating for 100 Days. 

It was all fun and light-hearted for the first few days. Usually is. I did some abstract tropical botanicals inspired by the tropical plants and vibes of Mexico, where I was at the time. I used the materials I had brought with me: mainly watercolor, and some oil pastel & colored pencil… and even some collage. It was a bit all over the place. But I was happy! I was free! The sun was shining and we were eating the best food every day and I didn’t have to cook! 

Plus — the condo we were staying in was named Wabi Sabi. I had heard of that but didn’t really know what it meant. I found a book on the shelf there called Simply Imperfect: Revisiting the Wabi-Sabi House, by Robyn Griggs Lawrence. It intrigued me, so I picked it up and started reading and taking notes. There were a lot of nuggets of wisdom in there that I loved, but one of the standout quotes was this: “Wabi-sabi is a celebration of the freedom that comes from shedding the huge weight of attachments and material concerns”. Hmmmm, could this be a guide for my 100 Day Project?

But the trip ended and we came home. Any and all vacation feelings and flow and freedom promptly ended. What am I even doing? Why am I doing this dumb project again? I need less to do in my life, not more! Plus, my art is lame. Oh, so predictable and boring and pointless. (My inner critic gets very loud!) 

So I stopped and did some reflection. If I were to continue, I needed this to be fun. Completely lighthearted. Just for play. I needed to tap into my intuition more and make art that lit me up. Excited me. It didn’t matter if it looked “good” or if it was “Instagram worthy”. I needed to feed myself and my curiosity. I needed to “shed the weight” of my attachment to performance and timelines. If I do one piece a day, cool. If I do five pieces in one day and call that Days 10-14, cool! If I make nothing in one week because it’s a crazy week with family obligations, also okay. 

I forged ahead. Some days felt exciting and the art I made sparked something inside me. Other days not as much. I was still exploring some overly-familiar territory that I had done in years past: landscapes, botanicals, and I was very much caught up in my head. Overthinking about how the project may or may not fit into a larger body of work… do I even have a style?... was I just wasting my time… ?? 

Then on March 20th, I took this great workshop from Jane Davies, an artist and teacher based in Vermont. My mom had invited me to take Jane’s class over in Portland called “The Seven Minute Collage.” This is the description of the workshop: 

Overcome indecision, hesitation, fear of wrecking a piece, in this workshop that focuses on continuity and fluidity. The idea of working with ease and confidence all the time may be a myth, but working with a little more ease and a little more confidence is totally achievable.

And then this: 

In this workshop you will learn practices that help you let go of perfectionism, let go of the tendency to self-judge and second-guess, and move forward with a whole new attitude. 

You can guess how this workshop changed the course of my project.  

I have long loved collage and do incorporate it into my art practice from time to time. But primarily I have painted, so mostly for my past 100 Day Projects I focused on painting so I could improve and get better at that. But that became too much of a burden - an assignment - to practice at something instead of just play and enjoy something. For so many complex reasons, my personality is one in which I have to do the hard and necessary thing before allowing myself to relax or do the thing I really desire. (It’s a whole thing. I’m working on it. If you’re into the enneagram at all, I’m a ONE, so this all makes sense. But that’s for another blog post).

So guess what I allowed myself to do for the rest of the Project? Seven minute collages! I loved what I was making for the first time in a long time. My collages were full of color and shape and texture. They were spontaneous. I was no longer overthinking! Or doubting. It felt FUN. Freeing. Exciting.

I lost track of the days. I wasn’t counting anymore. And sometimes when I just wasn’t feeling the seven minutes, I would allow myself more time. And then when I got a little bored of collage and genuinely felt like painting, I would allow myself to paint that day. Again, leaning into my desire and intuition.

Fittingly, on one of my very last pieces, I used a clipping from an old 1956 Collier’s magazine that said, “You’ll never go back to ordinary.” (I loved this little quote from an advertisement about Magnavox high fidelity televisions). It seemed so fitting to close out my sixth 100 Day Project with this quote. It pretty much sums it up. I allowed myself to not do what I ordinarily would do and by doing this, grew as an artist and as a person in the process. Ordinary is boring and restricting anyway.

An up close shot of one of my last pieces I completed.

Part of my collage wall. I fit about 30 pieces here.

Tips for a successful project

• Focus on the process, not the product.

• Find the fun in it.

• Don’t be afraid to change course. (It’s your project after all!)

• Keep it simple.

• Keep it short (set a timer if necessary!)

• Keep it small (all my pieces for the most part were on 9x9 inch Bristol paper)

• Post only if you want to, but also find inspiration through others who are participating in the Project. Comment on their projects. Engage in the supportive, encouraging community this Project fosters.

• Make time to do a few written reflections throughout your project. Take a few brief notes. I used my Field Notes for this.

• Put your pieces together in one place where you can see them or leaf throught them regularly. If you can hang them up on a wall, even better! It doesn’t have to be all of them. I hung several of my collages up on my wall in my studio and it gave me constant feedback of why I was doing this. Seeing the collages in mass made me feel inspired and accomplished.

• Give yourself lots of grace! You can do this Project for just a few weeks and still learn and grow. You can do it daily. You can do it just 3x a week. You don’t have to finish on time!

Lessons from the Ocean: Learning to Let Go

“I’m just here for the scenery!” I shouted to my husband. It was 5:30 am and I was sitting on my surfboard just beyond the breakers at sunrise. He was far enough away from me that I had to yell, because he was very busy scouting for good waves - and he was actually catching them. Me, I was just proud of myself for getting up so damn early, into the water, and swimming out past the crashing waves that had been a barrier for me just weeks before. And the scenery was breathtaking at that hour. Lots of clouds in the sky because the rainy season had started earlier than usual, and the light in the sky and the color of the water was pure magic. But the truth was I also really wanted to catch a wave. Like actually surf. For most of our time in Costa Rica (six weeks total) I had been mainly surfing the breakers, a few smaller unbroken waves when I got lucky, and had been pushed into a few ‘bigger’ waves during surf lessons. For the first three weeks in fact, I hadn’t even tried to venture out past the breakers. I was too scared. So I played it safe and small.

There had been several moments over the last week there where I was utterly frustrated with myself and my lack of success in the waves. My 13 year-old was catching waves, popping up quickly, and I was so excited for her. But I was also envious! And of course Joe, my 6’2” athletic husband, surfs well. The comparison game in my head was on fire. My head knew it was so stupid to compare or be envious or even frustrated, but my emotions wouldn’t listen. I just wanted the fun (and success!) they were having!!

Joe had mentioned at one point this thing that a famous YouTube surfer guy had said that really rang true: when you surf, you have to be in a flow. As in, you can’t go out there, be all stiff and scared, comparing yourself to others, and expect to 1) catch waves 2) have fun 3) be present in the moment. It won’t work.

And of course the same is SO true for painting. You cannot force your way into a good painting. You can’t start from a place of comparing yourself to others, or feeling “less than” or “not good enough”. You cannot be in your head about making something that you like or that others will like. You can’t start out thinking “I have to make a beautiful painting.” You have to be in some state or form of flow.

I’m still working on how to get into this state of “flow” more consistently in my painting practice. But I will tell you that my best work has happened when I care a lot less about the end result and truly enjoy the process of painting. The one thing I know for sure is this: flow can only happen when you let go. Let go of all the striving and effort, let go of comparing yourself to others or caring what others think.

This is not easy work. This type of letting go is a life-long process - for me at least! Some of the ways I battle over-thinking and comparison traps is through journaling, prayer, meditation, and being vulnerably honest with people about the inner dialogue that plagues me at times. When we bring our hard stuff into the light, it diminishes its power over us.

Back to the ocean: that morning I was finally able to let go. I was genuinely enjoying the beauty of the moment. And then a smaller wave I thought I could catch came along. I paddled. I caught it. I stood up on the board. I rode it all the way in. It was pure magic.