Painting as if You Don’t Give a F*ck

I ignored the “rules” and did what my brain, body, and emotions told me to, and look what happened!

I have been called a control freak before. Not once, but multiple times. Well, to be especially clear, the word freak was not used, but people noticed I like to be in control of things and felt the need to let me know that they indeed noticed, saying, “You always need to be in control, don’t you,” or “I can tell you like to be in control.” Nevertheless, control is something I am fond of and comfortable with. I don’t think, however, I am a freak about it.

I do think, though, that I let my fear of not being good enough, or creating the most amazing painting ever known to man, get in the way of authentically expressing myself in my paintings. It’s not that I think my past paintings lack expression or emotion, but rather, I am curious and excited to see what I will create when I let go of the fear (and control) of not being the best.

And I would be kidding myself to think that the feeling of not being good enough was my only barrier to my creativity. I also fear that my creations will go too far, be too weird, and not be received because they are “too out there” or “too much.”

So, again, which now I can see must be my theme for life, I am dealing with polar opposites.

I fear being too controlled, AND I am afraid to lose control.

Message to Victoria: There is a middle ground, you know!

Well, actually, I must not know, since I have not found that middle ground yet, thank you very much, Bleak Victoria.

Painting, for me, has been, and still is, a struggle between opposites in many ways.

I want to be authentic and honor “me,” yet it feels as if every cell in my body needs to be accepted, and acceptance typically means safe. Translation: paint what people like and buy, and the hell with your “vision.”

I feel dark emotions that are so strong they can stop me in my tracks, yet the feeling I get from the “happy” ones feels fleeting and shallow. Translation: Nobody wants to see all the “dark” emotions on the canvas; they want the happy ones, and I am not sure I can do that.

I believe in “all creation is art,” but also, almost obsessively, need my art to be “the best” or “good enough to buy” to justify its (and possibly my own) existence.

These “issues” of mine contribute to the strong hesitance I feel whenever I paint, or art journal, or do anything creative in the analog world. I want to move past them, but fear always pulls me back in.

But, with Letting It All Out, I took the big first step to not analyzing my every creative choice, and instead just acted on the ideas that popped into my head. And since I have hardly painted in 8 months, there were a LOT of ideas, and it seems they all made it onto one canvas.

I am not sure I like this “put it all on the canvas” painting. One minute I do, one minute I do not. I am ashamed of this one, a bit, so I must be on the right track in some way, right?

I am afraid of my own ideas.

Wow, yes, there it is, the heart of the matter. I do not trust myself enough to let go and see what happens. Okay, I can work with that. It’s progress.

Intellectually, I could tell seven reasons why I don’t trust myself, but constantly staying in that “emotionally safe” place will not propel me forward. I’ve been living in the “figure out the why” for far too many years, and now it is time to feel the emotions behind the lack of trust, learn where that trauma lives in my body, and work through it.

And, of course, I must begin with an intellectual question to get the process started.

Why do I distrust my creative instincts?

As I take in that question to myself, I am aware, and actively looking for, the emotions that sentence brings up and where in my body it lives.

When I ask that question, I feel:

A great sense of relief washes over me as tears well up in my eyes. Does this mean I am hitting on something that has been bothering me for years?

That I will be wrong in others’ eyes, or better stated, my art will be conceived as “wrong, amateurish, bad, stupid, etc.” This is just more evidence that I don’t trust myself, and I am struggling to figure out where these thoughts live in my body.

If my art is not mainstream, it is an exhausting task (and a scary one, too) for me to defend, support, and promote my art until other “like-minded” people discover it. Which, again, is more evidence that I don’t trust myself. I am still strongly guarding the truth, and I may not uncover it right now.

So, I ask myself the same question again: Why do I distrust my creative instincts?

Now, my mind is taking me to an internal debate I have been having with myself for over thirty years:

Who decides if our art is worthy? Of praise, of purchase, of honor, or consideration for wall space?

Who?
Me?
You?
Society?
Juries?
Who?

In my mind (maybe in my soul), I create for myself, but also for others. Creating solely for myself leaves me empty. However, when creating for others, I have to accept that not everyone will like what I create. Then what?

Well, that is where I get all fucked up. A little free-thinking…

I am in a room by myself
I create a painting
I am on an island by myself
No one will ever see my painting
I like my painting

One day, after I had created over 20 paintings
A boat arrives on the island
A man and a woman leave the boat and start to explore
They see my paintings
They probably have thoughts

Will they like them?
Does it matter if they do?
Will it keep me from creating more if they don’t?
Will I create more if they do?

What if they do like them and create more
But they are different from the first ones
Will they like those?
What if they don’t?

What if those two never saw my paintings?
Am I still an artist?
And back to the question that got us here: Is my art good?

Maybe I should stop asking that question
Maybe I should

But if others do not like my art,
Why should I keep making it?
See, I just can’t stop connecting art to acceptance.
And herein is my core issue.

If people don’t like what I create, then they must not like me.

Message to Victoria: Not everyone needs to like you for you to feel worthy. You are innately worthy.

Yeah, that last line is a “fake it ‘til you make it” thing for me. My worth is tied up in my likeability and usefulness, and I don’t feel that there is any innate worthiness to be had. But I’m working on that.

So, I’m back in a familiar place, which means I have more work to do. I feel I will work on my worthiness for the rest of my life, and that is okay. One woman spent the greater part of 29 years tearing my worth to shreds, so it makes sense that it would take the rest of my life to regain it.

I know that painting, and then writing, is my path to redemption and healing. I just need to keep asking myself the hard questions, and when I don’t feel I can, I just have to remember to ask simply, why?

And now, a conversation between the two Victorias…

Imaginary Victoria: Do you like your latest painting, “Letting It All Out?”
Real Victoria: Yes, and no.

Imaginary Victoria: Why?
Real Victoria: I don’t know!

Imaginary Victoria: Why?
Real Victoria: My immediate reaction when I see it is, “Wow, I like this!” It has a bit of a graffiti vibe.”

Imaginary Victoria: So, what’s the issue?
Real Victoria: Then, I see all the things I did not do “right,” such as creating a focal point, adding more depth with darker values, too much scribble and stencil, just TOO MUCH!!

Imaginary Victoria: So, you are embarrassed by your painting?
Real Victoria: Yes, somewhat. Ashamed that it is not good enough, and even more ashamed that it is not “the best’ whatever that is. And then ashamed it was not weird enough, if I am going in that direction.

Imaginary Victoria: Why does it need to be “the best?”
Real Victoria: No one will buy it if it is not “the best.”

Imaginary Victoria: Is that true?
Real Victoria: I cannot say with certainty that the statement is true. You got me there!

Imaginary Victoria: So, then, why do you keep believing that everything you paint needs to be “the best?” What serves you with that thinking?
Real Victoria: My first thought was that it keeps me from expressing my true self, and I am scared to do that, so I keep myself in this “I must be the best but never will be the best” place to avoid feeling scared and unworthy.

Imaginary Victoria: Nice work, Victoria. You truly are scared of yourself.
Real Victoria: Thanks, and now I'm back where I was when I started this writing.

How do I stop being scared of who I am?

Imaginary Victoria: I don’t know the answer to that question, but I encourage you to start down the path of discovery.

Real Victoria: Well, that was not very helpful!

As with all things in life, I will need to find and embark on this “path of discovery” on my own. There’s nobody who will snap their fingers and magically make me discover why and implement the appropriate changes. And that’s okay. I do love the journey of self discovery, although it can be a long and winding clusterfuck of confusion.

So, I will ask myself daily: Why am I scared of who I am? And every day, in my journal, I write the answer to that question. And, every day, that answer may be different. Until one day, when the question will no longer need to be asked, because I’m no longer scared of who I am.

I look forward to that day.

Thanks for joining me on this journey of art and truth.

P.S. After writing this, I got to thinking about Letting It All Out and had the thought that if I am going to create weird, out-of-the-mainstream paintings, then I should fully embrace it. So, I had the idea to paint the sides black and add green dots, white squigles, and yellow and blue spotches that expand the ideas from the face of the painting. I love it! What do you think?