The Cage of Perfectionism

I have a few questions for you.  Do you frequently

• want to quit painting because you don't like what you see?

• feel paralyzed and unable to move forward in your process because you're scared of messing it up or ruining it?

• want to quit altogether because you can't bear to be ‘in development’?

If so, these are just a few qualities that I've seen show up in artists (I'm raising my hand here really high) that struggle with some aspect of creative perfectionism.  They may not operate like this in every area of their life, but when it comes to creative expression, it's a log jam.  

Do you relate?  Do you ever feel caught in the cage of wanting your work to be perfect or nothing at all?

OK, maybe ‘perfect’ isn't the right word--other words we might use could be ‘beautiful’, ‘amazing’, or ‘like so-and-so’s work’.  Or maybe it isn't a word that rings a bell, but actions--like being addicted to getting positive feedback, making sales, or receiving some sort of attention/recognition for your work, and find that if you don't get it, it isn’t just a set back or a disappointment, but it feels like a verdict, making your efforts hopeless or pointless?  

Pretty much all of us experience this at some point, but for some of us, it can be so extreme that we find it hard to dive in to the process at all because we just don't have adequate amounts of positive feedback, support, and confidence coming from inside.

I really had to address this when I began seriously asking myself the deep questions about my creative practice.  There's nothing wrong with external positive feedback, but if I can't go on my own artistic journey without it, and can't tolerate unattractive work, I’m pretty much like a plane without a runway to take off. I'm never going to be able to do what it takes to develop and hone my skills.

I can't talk about perfectionism without quoting Brene Brown from The Gifts of Imperfection:

“Perfectionism is not the same thing as striving to be your best.  Perfectionism is not about healthy achievement and growth.  Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgment, and shame.  It's a shield.  Perfectionism is the twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it's the thing that's really preventing us from taking flight.”

Many artists may not find this operating in an obvious way in their life, but when it comes to creative expression, the evidence of it is off the chart.  My dear artist, do you find that there's something so vulnerable about creating that you can't bear to be a failure, in whatever way you define it?  

Well, no wonder.  When we create, it is an entirely unique expression of who we are--no one else can duplicate it even if they try.  No wonder we feel exposed and naked before the world when we create something, and no wonder we feel utterly shattered when what we're creating doesn't look attractive, even or especially to us.

It's not an excuse, but it is an explanation for how we can shut down and want to quit, or timidly stand on the edge of creative expression and tie our own hands behind our back, afraid of what might come out.  

But there is an opportunity in this. This is one of those areas where art takes a big mirror and holds it to our face and says, “Look here, do you want to know the truth?” The wonderful thing is that question isn’t a trap, but it’s a serious one that offers freedom on the other side, but there will be pain. To really look in that mirror, you get to see a wrong conclusion you made about yourself a long time ago, maybe as a child, and how it’s held you hostage ever since. Our art practice can serve this function time and again, if we let it.

Here's what I have found to be a beautiful shift:  the courage to be authentic as opposed to attractive.  

Think about it—what if we quit striving for beauty, but instead focused on authenticity; truly expressing our real thoughts and emotions. This gives me permission to be what I truly am creatively: messy, confused, full of hope, disappointment, and vision, flawed, a late bloomer, embarrassingly human, and also sometimes a little amazing.  I think I'm beginning to see that what makes works of art truly interesting is the presence of all of these. The bravery that it requires of the artist to display authentically is possibly some of the energy we feel from the painting itself. Finding that bravery is what I think Anna Quindlen was talking about when she wrote:

“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.”

Years ago, if you had asked me if I would love for my work to look just like (insert name of my favorite artist here), I would have answered with a resounding (and a tad desperate) “YES!”.  But now that I feel I've found my art practice, I'm much more interested in knowing and seeing who I really am.  I want to become the fullest version of my human self, and authentic art is the outgrowth of that desire.

This is how I have become such an enthusiast for process and growing a tolerance for unattractive work. We won't improve or, most importantly, discover who we really are and what we're capable of without it.  That's only available on the very messy rollercoaster ride of healthy, authentic practice.  

Trying to be perfect or make beautiful work all the time doesn't protect us from anything.  It truly is a cage.  But once you see the cage, you find the door is wide open.