Know You’ll Fail, Do It Anyway

I was talking to a friend today. I mentioned how in love I am with my latest art. I am doing flow art. It’s a blast. You throw paint on canvas and move it with air and fire. I use a blowtorch. What could be more delightful???

There is an element of science involved. Paint rises and falls based on its viscosity and density. Air and fire facilitate the process. I can precisely calculate the formation of cells through a knowledge of the elements used to create the paint I use. This appeals to the scientist in me. The fact that paint is made of pigment (earth) and flows (water) while being affected by air and fire adds symbolism that appeals to my love of history. It makes me feel in tune with ancient alchemists, the predecessors of today’s chemists.

Plus flinging paint on canvas is fun. It’s messy and what’s more enchanting to my inner child than getting my fingers covered in paint? I love that I can interact so directly with my medium. I don’t need brushes or precision.

Sometimes things go horribly awry. The result is an awful mess. When that happens, I scrape it off, giving myself a new blank canvas to work upon.

I asked my friend if he would like to learn to do flow art. He said no.

I asked him why not.

“I don’t think I could do a good job,” he said. “And I don’t have the time to get good enough at it to make it worthwhile.”

What the heck???

“That’s not the point!” I told him. “Don’t you ever just play? Playing isn’t about being good. It’s not about results. It’s about enjoying the process regardless.”

He laughed at me and called me juvenile. Maybe I am.

But isn’t that one of the purposes of art? It puts you back in touch with the part of yourself that laughs at bubbles and is enchanted by moonbeams.

Sometimes art is purposeful and poignant. Sometimes it is pregnant with meaning. This is the art we absorb in grand galleries. This might be the art we hang up on our own walls, if we can afford it. It teaches us, it mesmerizes us, it impacts our lives. But not all art has to be profound.

When I teach my classes, this is the hardest lesson for students to learn. They want to create something pretty. But pretty is not powerful.

There are lessons that can be learned from doing art that apply to all aspects of our lives. This is why I wish everyone did art — not necessarily painting, but anything that taps their creative spark. Music, dance, poetry, prose. It doesn’t really matter what form it takes.

When you are at the edge of the precipice where failure smashes against your fear of flying, that’s when you can face your fears and choose to soar. Or you can decide to stay fully grounded.

For those who make that choice — I respect their decision. But… not every decision needs to be pragmatic. When you refuse delight because you fear embarrassment, you turn your back on dreams. You refuse joy.

Joy only exists when failure is not feared. It comes from taking a risk. It comes when you don’t care because you are so focused on the present.

This is a lesson that is applicable to all of life. The goal of life is not accumulating more stuff. It is not looking good at all times. It is not avoiding anything that might embarrass you.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying it’s not important to manage your finances and I’m not advocating deliberately shocking your neighbors. But I am saying — don’t let practical realities keep you from doing the things that bring you joy.

If you want to be an entrepreneur or an artist, if you want to run marathons or climb Mount Kilimanjaro — don’t let the fear of failure hold you back. Remember that your life belongs to you.

When I first started painting, every piece I had was a failure. Now I sell my art. Does that make me a success? Or am I a success because when I paint, I am happy? You decide. What does the answer tell you about yourself?

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This post was previously published on Medium and is republished here with permission from the author.
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