Is the pressure to be original keeping you from being creative?

It’s already been done before. And probably by someone with more skill and better connections.

“Art is never finished, only abandoned.” – Leonardo da Vinci

You may be familiar with the voice. The one telling you you’re supposed to be coming up with something brand new every time you paint. If it’s going to count, it needs to shake the very foundations of the art world. If it’s worth doing, it must defy genres, wow critics, and your alienate friends.

I’m not sure that I believe in “invention”. Not from scratch. I think we’re meant to notice. To uncover. To rediscover.

Maybe it’s all been done before, but not by you. We all bring a singular set of fingerprints, memories, contradictions, and obsessions to the easel. Look at the current state of the world. A lot if it feels horribly familiar, but it’s never shown up exactly like this.

The counterpoint to all of this new noise can show up as art. Your voice is a strange and beautiful cocktail. And the world desperately needs a stiff drink.

Inspiration Friday Is the pressure to be original keeping you from being creative

Gabriel Mark Lipper – Eron – Oil on Panel – 16″ x 20″

When I’m really in it, I’m not “making stuff up.” I’m responding. I’m translating. I’m remembering something I didn’t know I knew. It’s already there. I’m just trying to get out of the way long enough to let it show up.

With realism, the goal was clarity. Render the thing in front of you as truthfully as possible. And even now, as I lean more and more into abstraction, that instinct hasn’t gone away. I’m still chasing something real. But real doesn’t always mean literal. Sometimes it’s a feeling. A rhythm. A tension. And the joy that comes with rediscovering how it wants to be seen this time.

So don’t get hung up on inventing. Don’t let the pressure to be “original” keep you from painting. Instead, dig. Sift. Follow the thread. Let the painting surprise you. Because sometimes the most honest art isn’t the stuff we dream up… it’s the stuff that’s been waiting for us all along.

What’s something you’ve rediscovered in your own work lately?

What keeps resurfacing in your art, even when you’re not trying?

Is the pressure to be original keeping you from being creative?

 

Can you leave it alone?

Knowing when a painting is finished and then actually choosing to stop is a very underrated skill. It’s hard to stop. And not just because we’re secretly desperate for some ambiguous form of external approval, which then triggers our hypercritical perfectionism, manifesting in carefully, overworked paintings that look pretty much like we would expect (Oh… is that just me?), but because painting is like candy, it’s addictive.

“Art is never finished, only abandoned.” – Leonardo da Vinci

I was trained in the language of observation. Realism. Objectivity. Comparison. That classicism is still in there. But lately, I’ve been chasing something a little messier.

Painting realistically is like using a paper roadmap. 1 inch equals a mile. How many miles from here to Vancouver?
“Oh that’s where the eyeball is!’
How many miles to San Francisco?
“Oh, there’s the bottom of the chin!”

Abstraction is ditching the map and trusting the constellations. You might get where you’re headed, you might not.  It’s a bigger map and you can only read it after sunset.

8paint Inspiration Friday can you leave it alone

Works in Progress (mostly me)

There’s joy in letting go of the need to finish in a tidy, polished way. The longer I try to “complete” a piece, the more I risk squeezing the life out of it. I’ve “improved” pieces into oblivion. That awkward, electric tension between what’s rendered and what’s left raw? The wild brushstrokes, the unexplained edges, the bold choices I almost paint over? That’s me trusting the work. Trusting myself.

Realism gave me the tools. Abstraction reminds me to play.

If art is never finished, we don’t have to be either. We just have to know when to stop, and start the next one. I still don’t always get it right. But I’ve learned that sometimes, the boldest move you can make… is stepping away.

What’s one part of your work you’re tempted to “fix” that might actually be the most honest?

What signals do you listen for when deciding a piece is done?

Can you leave it alone?

 

Is the tangent actually the main event?

You know that feeling. You’re totally lit up about something, maybe even slightly unhinged. That can’t-stop-talking-about-it electric energy that makes your friends slowly back away? Yeah. That’s the good stuff.

“Creativity is a natural extension of our enthusiasm.” – Earl Nightingale

When we are following what excites us, the creativity flows. Getting ourselves to the studio is easy. Ideas show up faster. The whole experience of creating feels less like work and more like play. Which, ironically, is when our work gets really interesting.

Too often, we try to muscle our way through the act of making art. We show up with furrowed brows and tight shoulders, determined to be “productive” or “serious” or (my personal favorite) “legit.” The best paintings rarely come from that place. They come from joy. From curiosity. From full-throttle enthusiasm about some weird little idea that won’t leave us alone.

8paint Inspiration Friday Is the tangent actually the main event

Seclusion – Gabriel Mark Lipper – Acrylic on Canvas – 48″x48″

Gabriel Mark Lipper – Acrylic on Panel – 24″x49″You don’t have to wait for inspiration to strike like lightning.  Just pay attention to whatever makes your eyes light up. What colors are you obsessed with right now? What shapes keep showing up in your sketchbook? What painting would you make if no one else ever had to see it?

What are you ridiculously into right now?

What would your next painting look like if it was powered by pure joy?

Is the tangent actually the main event?