I am the type of perfectionist whose desire to be perfect manifests itself into intense anxiety. The anxiety becomes so overwhelming that I’d rather not complete a task if I cannot do it perfectly. This has led to dropped hobbies, blank job applications, and countless missed opportunities. I’ve had to mourn the person I had imagined I’d be if I had at least tried.
During quarantine, I had time to evaluate and understand the perfectionist side of myself. I came to the conclusion that I am worse off than if I was to have failed at all of the things I’ve wanted to try. When I thought about all of the unmet potential, it was difficult to not curl up in a ball of misery and unfulfillment. So, from that moment, I decided that something needed to change.
I wracked my brain for all of the things I’ve wanted to do in my life but was too scared to make any attempt. I’ve always appreciated art; I had a painting of Van Gogh’s Cafe Terrace at Night hanging on my dorm room wall throughout all four years of college. But I’ve never considered myself particularly artistically inclined. However, I figured art is subjective, so technically, I couldn’t be “bad” at it. Admittedly, this was weak logic but it worked for me.
I decided that I was going to learn how to paint. I ordered a cheap set of acrylic paints, canvases, and a variety of brushes. I set up my supplies, picked a tutorial on Youtube and sat in front of canvas... and stared at it for ten minutes. In reflection, it sounds insane, but I was afraid. Was I wasting my time? Did I just throw away money? What was the point?
These thoughts reminded me of a painting I once saw in an Art History class in high school. There is a famous artist named Mark Rothko. His art mostly consists of paintings that are simply rectangles of different colors (See below).
(Mark Rothko- Green Red on Orange)
When I saw his paintings, they frustrated me. How could such simple stripes of color be considered art?! Because my own art exploration reminded me of him, I did a little research.
One particular quote I found that described his art stated that it was a “simple expression of complex thought” (Gottlieb). Rothko intended on people having emotional, spiritual reactions to his paintings. He was able to communicate emotions in a simple way. They weren’t just rectangles of colors; they had depth, texture, and allowed the viewers to connect with them in any way they pleased.
My research gave me a better appreciation for Rothko. He helped me realize that the feeling I got from painting was more important than the subject of the painting. That idea brought me such great relief. I was able to create without the worry of falling short to some unrealistic expectation.
“A painting is not a picture of an experience, but it is the true experience.”- Mark Rothko
His words rang true. The experience of painting became the most important thing to me. Even the mistakes I made in the process became an integral part of the experience.
The first subject I decided to paint was the night sky. The painting would consist of a black background, and sparkling white stars. Simple. But still, as my brush hovered above the crisp, flawless white canvas, my fingers shook. I was nervous, anxious; but with a deep breath, I made my first stroke. It was liberating. And it was fun.
From there, I moved on to clouds and then flowers. I experimented with mixing colors and using different tools to create different textures. Feeling bold, I started posting photos of the paintings on Instagram. I posted them as a joke, but I was shocked when I started receiving such genuine and kind compliments on them. I was being praised for something I didn’t believe I was good at and it was mind blowing. As the adventure continued, I tried my hand at more complex subjects or I recreated paintings I had seen online. With each one, more praise came. But that wasn’t important to me because, for once in my life, I was doing something just for the sake of having fun.
Will I ever become a professional painter? No. Will I ever make money from my paintings? Probably not. That’s okay. I might not be the best, or very good at all. In spite of that, it made me happy and that was good enough for me.
Sources
Moma learning. MoMA. (n.d.). Retrieved January 13, 2022, from https://www.moma.org/learn/moma_learning/mark-rothko-no-16-red-brown-and-black-1958/
Twemlow, M., 2013. [online] Metmuseum.org. Available at: <https://www.metmuseum.org/blogs/teen-blog/modern-and-contemporary/posts/rothko> [Accessed 13 January 2022].