By all means, paint

Do you know that Vincent van Gogh quote: “If you hear a voice within you say “you cannot paint”, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.”?

It is something I think about a lot. My daughter (8) likes to draw. Now, you see, she likes it very much and is always drawing. Observing her and the freedom she has to do it, in her own time and on her own pace, without judgement, comparison to others/peers or disapproval, is something special. Just encouragement, joy and freedom to explore, develop and pursue what makes her heart sing.

Something that has never crossed my daughter’s mind regarding her art, is something that has always been in mine: I believe I cannot draw, still, to this day. This was ‘planted’ in my mind, first as a little seed, then spread as ugly tentacles, decades further. I was told over and over, from childhood, to my student years, that I cannot draw . One look at the drawing I worked at or the painting I made would be enough for them to know. The disapproving looks, sometimes pity and even loud critisism in front of my peers. The others, whose portrait-noses did not look like bananas, also received loud comments in front of their peers, but of praise.

This wasn’t about those rare moments where you would actually get good advice how to improve your work. That little push you needed to overcome the fear of the blank paper staring back at you. This was about doors closing. “Not good enough and that’s the end of it.”

Each comment of the “professionals”, (art teachers mostly) seemed to cement the belief deeper. “I cannot draw at all!”. I did not realise yet, at the time, how destructive these comments were and how my inner critic was parroting it. I believed them, I believed the voice and all the joy of creating that was left, trickled away after every disapproval. I even started making fun of how ‘untalented’ I was: (since I was now being perceived as not being able to draw by literally everyone) “I can’t even draw a circle!”, I would exclaim, accompanied by a smile. I thought they were right. My drawings looked like the erased Whistler’s mother painting in the Mr.Bean movie…..after the ballpoint stain and his fully devoted, but clumsy and futile attempts to save it. There was no way I could draw from a bird’s-eye perspective, like some so easily could. Dimensions, landscapes…animals, cities…and the toughest of all: portraits…The assignments they gave were just out of my league.

My discomfort did not come from my toddler-like-art. It came from how it was approached.

You cannot draw? The “cannot draw”, is hardly possible. How could it be? Everyone can draw with functions in tact. What it is, is that someone thinks you don’t draw according to their demands or expectations. Not everyone needs to be a Rembrandt. A Van Gogh, Monet, Renoir. Mediocre is good.(some less than mediocre artists earn millions) Enjoying the process of creation is even better.

The art teachers who made me believe this lie, consciously or unconsciously, had something elitist about them and were very bad teachers. Not much teaching was happening at all. An Art is for the few-attitude (cue very posh accent) “Not everyone is or can be an artist!”  I wonder how they perceive the “Peanut butter on a carpet” that sold for a high price….. The paintings that are just one big blue canvas. The glasses left forgotten in a corner in a museum that made visitors think it was part of an exhibition……. The Mondrian painting that hung ‘upside down’ and no one knew for decades……Artificial Intelligence paintings……

Or…what about…The people with disabled limbs painting with their mouth or feet? The non-verbal man who draws entire cities from above, just from memory? The microscopic carving of items done in between heart beats? Three dimensional art on a lift floor that makes people hesitate to enter?

I read something, somewhere, saying:

-Perfectionism is about the creation, not the creator-

This stuck with me. The perpetual disapproval made me forget, entirely, about ME. They changed my inner voice, but they did not make me into them. I treasure all my daughter’s drawings. They did not make me believe that I am not creative. I always knew I was. I think I should start again, after decades of barely drawing, inspired by my daughter being free of those chains that held me for too long. Not to be underestimated, this will require hard work and persistence. Deleting the ugly comments of the even uglier people, one by one. Erasing the internalised lie and dismissing that jury once and for all.

Children drawing and painting with joy? Oh…let them….! Encourage them! May they never have to filter out nor battle the internalised lie.

For all you of out there still hearing the critics voice: Let’s be free, make art, good enough, ugly, mediocre or great, as a celebration of no judgement, an “I can draw- party”, an I’m good enough-celebration and a middle-finger to the failed art teachers. Get that pencil/brush to work and start with a…circle? 🙂 ❤️ 

(replace “art teacher” with any other subject and realise what happens to children, worldwide, on a daily basis and what impact it has on their future…..)