I’ve been practicing how to draw and paint faces.
As a ripening artist, I fall in love with each painting…even when it is far from perfect. Like this one. Learning a new technique taught by Sara Burch in Paint Your Heart and Soul‘s year-long online painting and creativity course, I realize that one eye is larger and a bit lower than the other. Yet, this painting captures something for me that I was having trouble expressing in words. This painting helped me to bring some disparate feelings together.
Learning and practicing a new technique was the primary purpose of this new-to-me process. Perhaps there is a time and place to strive for excellence (rarely perfection?) or even one’s personal best. As I am learning, there has also got to be plenty of room for play, experimentation and error…sometimes happy accidents.
With writing, is it any different? Writers strive for perfection as they craft their prose or poetry. Do they ever reach it? Levels of perfection are relative, it seems. For with any final piece preparing to leap into the world, the writer decides, at some point, to let it go. This is not based solely on whether a piece is “good enough”. There is an inner sense of completion. What wants to be said has been said in a way that is “kin” to the writer. In using the word kin in this way, I intend that the writer has expressed him or herself in a way that is unique, particular or inherent. When that goal is reached, then a painting or piece of writing can feel complete and ready to be launched.
When you write about someone, you look for the dissonant detail. Perhaps this is also reflected in your greater body of work–that you allow the dissonant details into your writing thereby, making a work your own. Those details–which could be seen as imperfections–mark your work in some way. Those details reveal to the reader “your style”. Offering your work, with all of its perceived blemishes, does make one feel vulnerable.
Do you find fulfillment in practicing your art or craft? Are you tolerant of “mistakes” as you learn? Are you patient with your development as a writer or artist? Can you spot the dissonant details in your work that make it stand out as YOURS?
“Staying vulnerable is a risk we have to take
if we want to experience connection.”
Brene Brown, Researcher, Story-Teller, Author, Lecturer