On making bad art

A couple of months ago, as I was walking through a museum gift shop, I passed a display featuring a poster that read: “make bad art.” It didn’t have a huge impact on me then, but as time went on, I found myself thinking back to it often. In a way, it simplified an idea that I’ve had in my head for a long time. I was always labeled as the “artistic” one in my family, even though all of us make art. This led me to constantly be looking for differences in the way that I create— what made me “artistic” and not them? The only thing I’ve been able to boil it down to is attitude. Anyone can make art, but to be an artist, you have to approach creating with an open mind. You have to allow yourself to explore and move outside of your comfort zone. You have to make bad art.

My family always indulges me when I ask them to work on a project together, but they never work on it very long. They inevitably get frustrated when their creation isn’t matching their vision. Every time, they give up, saying “I’m just not good at this.” On one hand, I (a recovering perfectionist) can understand, but on the other, art isn’t something you can get a perfect score on. It’s subjective. It’s not meant to fulfill certain criteria. Often, at least for me, the point of creating a piece of art is in the creation itself— the final product doesn’t really matter.

The reason so many people create art as a hobby is because it feels good! Art is a fulfilling form of self-expression that doesn’t have other negative effects (next time you’re feeling upset, maybe scribble in a notebook instead of posting those things on your story). Growing up in the digital age, so much of what we experience is on a screen. The feeling of making something with your hands is invaluable. Making art is like touching grass. It makes you feel real.

People have been making art since they have existed. Some people would argue that making art is what makes us human. If this is the case, how have we allowed ourselves to become elitist about it? Humans are imperfect, and art is a reflection of the human that created it. Also, the reason you like a piece of art is because you either relate to its message or it matches your taste. Taste is subjective, so something that’s bad to you could be good to someone else. Why would you rob that someone else of the chance to connect with you by giving up on creating before you even start?

Maybe you aren’t a perfectionist and instead you’re afraid of judgment. You see the skills that other people have and know that you cannot produce the same type of work. I’m here to give you some good news: nobody that matters cares at all. Every expert (in anything) is by nature a lover of that thing, and they are excited that other people are trying it out. I wouldn’t consider myself a writer, but I’m not afraid to publish this. I know that my work won’t be the same quality as the people I look up to, but I also know that they’re cheering me on. Trying new things is good for you, even if it takes time for your skills to develop. Just like creating art, it releases dopamine, and it also builds confidence. 

I know that it can be scary, but the great thing about art is that you can try it all on your own. You can make a drawing, hate it, and then throw it away. You can do that over and over again. You can create just for yourself. And later, if you ever decide to share your work, remember: only haters hate. And who cares what they think?

I believe that it is because I chose to embrace being a beginner in art that I am able to be a beginner in other things. It’s a great entry point to a practice that will change your life. The confidence I have gained by giving myself the space to fail and persevere is a defining feature of who I am. Last year I was a research assistant, designed for a fashion show, modeled in a magazine, and released a short film. Was I amazing at any of these things? No. But I’m proud of myself for trying, and the next time I do them, I’ll be better. Everyone has crazy, far-fetched dreams of things they’d like to try, but for most people, they stay dreams. I was able to try these new things because I gave myself the freedom to be a beginner— to do a bad job. I made bad art, and I’m better for it. So make bad art, and then apply for that job, and then talk to that person. You’ll never be good enough if you don’t start.

Maybe what makes a person an artist is that fearlessness. There is a certain magnetism to someone who is unafraid to try. It’s contagiously inspiring, I often find myself thinking back to the art I made when I was a kid. I wasn’t worried about whether my art was “good” or “bad.” I did it because I liked it. And now, I think the things I made are beautiful. I treasure them. Even if your skills aren’t where you want them to be, just by trying, anything you create will take on a beauty of its own. If you make bad art, your art will never be bad.