A journey of letting go of perfectionism, rediscovering creativity, and learning to create for myself.
A few days have passed since my last blog post, and the question still remains: Where to now? What’s next?
In my last post, I talked about feeling like I was performing rather than creating. Like everything I made needed to be perfect. I’ve been on this artist diet, if you will, for years. Constantly restricting myself, following imaginary rules, and judging every little thing I create.
And in more recent years, I’ve been feeling like a lost artist.
Somewhere along the way, I started creating for approval rather than my own acceptance. When a piece of artwork turned out “bad” or wasn’t as polished as some of my other work, I felt like I had failed.
But I don’t want my artwork to be that way anymore.
I want, and desperately need, my artwork to connect with my soul.
And when I’m performing, that connection just isn’t there.
But What Is My Art Actually About?
A few years ago, I was an art vendor at the City of the Hills Festival in Oneonta, NY. I remember a gentleman and his partner approaching my booth. They looked at my work, and he asked me a seemingly simple question:
“Okay, tell me what your work is about.”
Oh. Shit.
I was so embarrassed because, quite frankly, I didn’t know.
I mean, I liked drawing portraits. I liked realism. I liked making things look as close to the reference photo as possible.
But what was my artwork about?
I honestly don’t remember what I said to him. For all I know, my internal dialogue was something along the lines of, “Oh shit, now what do I say? This is my work. I worked really hard on it. I hope you like it!”
And here’s the thing. That gentleman could have had a pocket full of money burning a hole in it, just waiting to find a piece of artwork that resonated with him.
But how could I expect someone to connect with my artwork when I wasn’t even sure how I connected with it myself?
Now, don’t get me wrong. There is absolutely nothing wrong with creating beautiful artwork simply because you enjoy the subject matter or the technical challenge. But for me, I’m beginning to realize that I want something deeper.
I want my artwork to mean something to me.
The Art That Came From My Soul
There have been a couple of instances where I created conceptual artwork that was truly for me.
One was a painting titled Letting Go.
I collaged different images together to create a composition based on a Bible scripture. At the time, I was heavily involved in church. Since then, I’ve stepped away from organized religion and consider myself spiritual rather than religious.
But that painting still resonates with me.
I believe in a higher power, whom I refer to as God. I believe they love me and want what’s best for me. If they take care of the birds, why wouldn’t they take care of me?
That painting was about hope. Confidence. Faith.
It was something I needed to create for myself.
I believe I completed it back in 2018, and since then, I haven’t created many other conceptual paintings.
There is, however, another painting.
Well…a painting that’s currently collecting dust on my easel.
It’s titled Protecting My Autonomy.
I haven’t worked on it in several weeks because, well, life. And also because it isn’t looking quite as good as it did in my head.
Ahhh, there’s that perfectionist again!
But the concept? I absolutely love it. I feel deeply connected to it.
It’s about wanting the freedom to be myself. To believe what feels true to my soul. To wear what I want. To live authentically without needing anyone else’s permission.
And most importantly, it’s about recognizing that I am the one who will protect me.
It represents strength, protection, and autonomy.
You know, the more I write about this painting, the more I realize that maybe it’s time to dust it off and take another stab at it.
Maybe it doesn’t need to look exactly like the image in my head to be meaningful.
Maybe it just needs to be finished.
Enter Louise Fletcher and the Tiny Art Project
Well, with all that said, my sister Gwynnie, who is also on her own creative self-discovery journey, recently stumbled across artist Louise Fletcher’s YouTube channel.
She watched a video titled The Tiny Art Project That Changed My Life, and it really moved her. She shared it with me because she thought it might resonate with me, too.
And boy, was she right.
In the video, Louise talks about a time when she was ready to give up on being an artist. But instead, she decided to take on a small creative project: drawing or painting a self-portrait every single day for an entire year.
A. WHOLE. YEAR.
Phew!
That sounds intimidating in itself. I mean, I work full-time, grab overtime here and there, and already struggle to squeeze in time for painting.
And now I’m supposed to create something EVERY DAY?
But what really struck me wasn’t the length of the project.
It was the freedom that came from removing the expectation that everything needed to be good.
Or perfect.
Or even worth keeping.
Louise talked about making failure meaningless. About removing judgment and replacing it with curiosity. About how limitations and repetition can actually create more freedom to explore.
And something about that really spoke to me.
Because what if I stopped trying to make good art?
What if I just made art?
Could I Draw Myself Into Loving Myself?
When Louise mentioned that she had chosen to draw her own face every day, my immediate reaction was:
“Nope. Absolutely not. I’m not drawing my face for an entire year.”
Why?
Well, because of my own insecurities, of course.
But as I sit here typing this, another thought has entered my mind.
What if drawing myself every day could help me learn to love myself?
What if I could literally draw myself into self-acceptance?
I’m incredibly critical of myself. Always have been. I’ve had numerous people tell me over the years that I’m too hard on myself.
And they’re probably right.
But when you grow up being discarded time and time again, you tend to internalize that experience.
You start believing that maybe, just maybe, if you had been better, someone would have kept you.
Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. More talented. More lovable.
Maybe you would have been enough.
Those beliefs don’t just disappear when you become an adult. Sometimes they follow you into everything you do.
Even your artwork.
Maybe that’s part of why I’ve spent so many years trying to make everything perfect. Maybe I’ve been trying to prove my worth through the things I create.
And maybe that’s why a painting that doesn’t turn out quite right can feel like something much bigger than a painting that didn’t turn out quite right.
I can’t change my past.
But I can work on changing the way I see myself today.
And perhaps this little art project could be one way of doing that.
Thirty Days or an Entire Year?
In her video, Louise encourages people to create their own tiny art project. It doesn’t have to last a year. It could be something as simple as 30 days.
And immediately, two different voices started having a conversation in my head.
One said, “Well, she did a whole year. You should do a whole year, too!”
The other said, “A WHOLE YEAR?! Are you out of your mind?”
There I go again. Turning something that’s supposed to be freeing into another expectation I need to live up to.
But then I started thinking…
What else do I really have going on with my artwork right now?
I’ve been feeling so directionless. So disconnected. So unsure of what I want to create or where I want my artistic journey to go.
Maybe instead of trying to figure it all out, I could just start making something.
One little self-portrait at a time.
No grand expectations. No pressure to create a masterpiece. No need to turn it into something I can sell.
Just me, my art supplies, and a willingness to explore.
Maybe I’ll try different mediums. Different techniques. Different styles.
Maybe some portraits will be realistic. Maybe others will be loose, expressive, or downright ridiculous.
Maybe some will be beautiful.
And maybe some will be absolutely hideous.
But that’s okay.
Because tomorrow, I can make another one.
Creating Without Performing
There’s another part of this project that I’ve been thinking about.
Social media.
I’ve spent so much time creating artwork with the intention of sharing it. And while I genuinely love showing people what I’ve made, I’ve also noticed how easily that excitement can turn into seeking validation.
How many likes did it get?
Did anyone comment?
Did I gain any followers?
Does anyone even care?
Ugh. It’s exhausting.
And I don’t want to keep doing that to myself.
There’s a difference between sharing artwork because I’m excited about what I’ve created and sharing because I need reassurance that what I’ve created, or even who I am, is worthwhile.
I want to learn to recognize that difference.
So I’m thinking about taking a 30-day break from posting my artwork on social media.
Instead, maybe I’ll share my progress here on my blog.
The good. The bad. The ugly.
Without judgment.
Not because I’m trying to impress anyone, but because I want to document the experience. I want to see what happens when I give myself permission to create without constantly worrying about how the finished product will be received.
And who knows? Maybe someone reading this is struggling with the same thing.
Maybe we can figure some of this stuff out together.
What’s the Worst That Could Happen?
So, what happens if I stop sharing my artwork on social media for 30 days?
Maybe I lose some followers.
Oh well.
Maybe the algorithm forgets I exist.
Wouldn’t be the first time!
Maybe I gain some new subscribers here on my website who are genuinely interested in following my artistic journey.
That would be pretty exciting!
Or maybe absolutely nothing happens.
And maybe that’s okay, too.
Because I think that’s the whole point.
Not everything I create needs to lead somewhere. Not everything needs to be productive, profitable, or impressive.
Sometimes I can just create because I want to.
Because it makes me curious.
Because it makes me happy.
Because it helps me connect with myself.
I don’t know if this tiny art project will change my life the way it changed Louise’s. I don’t know if I’ll discover some incredible new artistic style or suddenly become comfortable looking at my own face every day.
But I am curious to find out.
And for once, maybe curiosity is enough.
So, I’m going to give it a try.
Thirty days. Thirty self-portraits. No expectations of perfection.
Just an artist trying to find her way back to herself.
And maybe, somewhere along the way, I’ll discover that I never really needed to be a better artist.
Maybe I just needed to give myself permission to be the artist I already am.
Thank you for following along as I continue trying to figure myself and my artwork out.
If you’d like to follow my Tiny Art Project and see where this little experiment takes me, be sure to subscribe to my website so you don’t miss the next blog post.
I’ll be sharing my experiences, discoveries, and probably a few spectacular artistic disasters along the way.
And if you’re an artist who has ever struggled with perfectionism, self-doubt, or feeling disconnected from your creativity, maybe you’ll consider starting your own tiny art project, too.
Here’s to creating for the sake of creating.
And to learning to love ourselves a little more along the way.
Inspired by Louise Fletcher’s YouTube video, The Tiny Art Project That Changed My Life.
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