Barriers to Practice: One Good Jump
Hello dear reader. Today I wanted to write about the art of practice and more specifically, the things that stop us from practicing and improving at art. You might think that the art of successful practice is of general use, and I think you would indeed be right in that. However, I do believe that there are certain things that get in the way of us as artists (or wannabe artists) being able to practice successfully. Perhaps I’m in a minority of one; however, given that there probably is “nothing new under the sun”, I can’t really believe that the things that get in the way of my practice are not the same things that have troubled artists for millennia.
So why the title of this blog post? In Harry Potter, when the eponymous hero opens his Chocolate Frog and the little blighter (the frog, not HP) leaps out of the train window, Ron Weasley explains that that is rotten luck as the frogs only have one good jump in them. Now I’ve been guilty of worrying about this with reference to my art - have I only got ONE good painting in me? If I’m satisfied with my efforts today, will I only be disappointed tomorrow? Seems ridiculous to use that as an excuse to not paint more, or not to finish a painting that has started promisingly, but I can genuinely say that at times I’ve been worried that although I’ve progressed a certain way with my painting and drawing, that’s as far as it can possibly go. I’m either worried that I’ll mess up before the end (in the case of an ongoing work) or that tomorrow’s effort will only fall short.
Of course, when applied to any other field of human endeavour, this attitude might appear ridiculous - imagine a concert violinist being worried that they haven’t got another concerto in them, or an athlete thinking that although they ran a PB today, they’ll probably trip over their own shoelaces tomorrow. But then again, thinking about it a bit, they probably DO have doubts, don’t they? People from all walks of life must have doubts about their ability to maintain a certain standard, or if they didn’t, there wouldn’t be so many of us claiming to suffer from imposter syndrome.
Bound up with all this, in my mind at least, is the concept of “talent”. The Oxford English Dictionary defines talent as “a special natural ability or aptitude”. The idea that an artist has been born that way and that they rose to fame because of inbuilt brilliance is a popular one - but is it true? And more importantly, does it matter for ME or YOU? Implicit in this argument, in my head at least, is that if I can’t be like (insert famous painter here), then I may as well not bother even trying to get better. Obviously I enjoy painting and drawing and I want to get better. Let’s be honest, I’d like to get a LOT better. I’m not satisfied when I paint what I think is a rubbish painting, but I do understand that to get anywhere, I will have to paint a lot of rubbish paintings.
This is why I think it’s important to paint even when a) you don’t feel like it and b) when early indications seem to suggest that a painting is going to end up in the bin. I sometimes do stop if I feel that a painting is irretrievably bad. On such occasions, I typically do one of the following: either have a tantrum* or simply try to paint the same thing again, applying what I’ve learnt from the last effort to my next attempt. It doesn’t always work out, but usually I find I can learn something, even from the very worst paintings. The third point is c) you can’t expect to attempt something and be brilliant first time! Nope! You’re going to paint some rubbish paintings! Even if the talent thing is real, famous artists still did a lot of paintings and drawings to become what they were and I’m fairly sure that it won’t be different for us. I’m pretty sure that a great painting won’t just magically fall out of my brush onto the canvas however artistically-inclined I feel I might be.
A final thing to say on this is to remember that we are mostly on this journey for ENJOYMENT. Remember to enjoy your art and enjoy your practice! I like to flick through my old work from time to time and I’m normally very pleasantly surprised by the progress I have made. I’m sure you will be too!
*quite therapeutic, but not very grown-up.
