Every artist has a messy pile of failed works—canvases that didn’t quite land, experiments that went sideways, and bold attempts that felt, well, less than successful. I’ve lost count of mine. But I’ve come to realize something: failure is the best studio partner I’ve ever had.
Why? Because failure means I’m trying. It’s proof that I’m reaching for something beyond my grasp, stretching my skills, and testing my creative boundaries. It’s the discomfort of failure that often sparks the next great idea. Without it, I’d stay in a safe, stagnant loop, painting the same things over and over.
When I start a piece, it’s never about creating perfection. It’s about showing up, putting brush to canvas, and following the process wherever it leads. Sometimes that journey ends with a piece I love. Other times, it’s a trainwreck. But even trainwrecks have value. They teach me what doesn’t work and challenge me to find what does.
Here’s a truth I’ve learned: No masterpiece ever emerged without risk, and no risk comes without the possibility of failure. The key isn’t avoiding failure; it’s embracing it. Learn from it, let it humble you, and then get back to work.
To all my fellow artists: fail loudly, fail often, and fail forward. Those failures will be the foundation of your breakthroughs. Keep creating, no matter what.
Who's with me?