Choosing Color Before Confidence
What happens when you start before you feel ready
I’m not sure when it happened but somewhere along the way, I started telling myself that I was not a painter. I used to be a painter. I have painted. But I lost my confidence. This felt like a big problem because I have illustrations to complete that require color. So for months, I tried to learn how to paint. I took online classes. I read books. I changed my mind often. I did not paint.
A couple of weeks ago, I got sick of feeling afraid. I sketched a Towhee and applied color to it. I had no feelings of confidence or competence. I didn’t make a plan or watch a video. I used the colored pencils I had nearby. I wasn’t very happy with the results but I wasn’t disappointed either.
Next, I sketched a Collared Aracari. I focused not on details or accuracy but on being present, relaxing my grip, enjoying the explorations. I tried markers, added pencil, applied some color pencils. Something inside me started to shift. Warmth, enjoyment, anticipation.
While I was traveling over Christmas, I had even fewer art supplies than before. A new watercolor brush pen, a few markers, a couple of colored pencils. I turned my attention to shapes and abstraction. I allowed myself to navigate by curiosity. What if I used a marker to soften the edges of the brush pen? What if I let the toes merge into one shape? What if I gently blocked in the background?
Looking back on it, I see that I started living “I’m not really a painter” as an artistic identity. The illustration job was not the problem. The problem was that I had lost confidence and didn’t know how to rebuild it. I couldn’t see my situation as an opportunity for growth. I only saw myself as skill-inadequate.
In the process of working anyway, a few things became clear.
Start before being ready. Movement has power in it. Beginning has a magic all its own. You can always start over.
Be open to frustration and not-knowing-how. Instead of trying to solve and plan, open your heart to experiencing a little discomfort. Feel the feelings of frustration. Allow yourself to be in the stage of not-knowing-how while you’re putting down brushstrokes. Doing something gives you a place to push off from.
Welcome your mistakes as guides to the future. See a mark you’d do differently? Do it differently next time. Feel a color could have been mixed a little better? Mix it better now; take notes. A line that went off course? Direct it more expressively in the next sketch.
🕊️ Many of us are learning how to move forward without certainty. If this met you where you are, you’re very welcome here.
This is a great life lesson:
> Start before being ready. Movement has power in it. Beginning has a magic all its own. You can always start over.
“Feel the feelings of frustration. Allow yourself to be in the stage of not-knowing-how while you’re putting down brushstrokes.” This is so important but soooo hard to do, Tara. I find sometimes I’m able to embrace that, but then move back into the cycle of thinking “maybe if I just took this class” or “maybe if I just bought THAT specific pen” I’ll finally be better. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings on this. I think you’re such an accomplished artist and it’s comforting to know these thoughts are just a normal part of the creative process.