I’m driving myself a little bit bats here scrolling through my Twitter feed for a link to a story I read some days ago. Good luck! Where and when was it? Whatever it was, it meant something and stuck to me.
The gist: This guy remembers his art teaching supply teacher telling him to not apologise for a crappy coil pot the poor kid made. I’m sure if I Googled that tangle of words, it would lead me where I wanted to be. The teacher stand-in then tells the kid to go back and improve his work. Don’t apologise. Don’t make excuses. By doing this, you’re trying to get a dishonest response from the person you’re apologising to. ‘Oh, it’s not that bad.’ Save yourselves this dance. Make it. Offer it. Say nothing. The end. Not entirely earth shattering but a good message to link to something else I read recently.
I followed a rabbit trail to find this by Cheryl Strayed Just do it like a motherfucker on Sarah Wilson’s blog. In short, a tortured young writer composes a letter (practically bleeding all over the pages, such is the intensity of the thing) to agony aunt Cheryl Strayed. It feels wrong to sandwich Cheryl between those two words as she has achieved achieved achieved amazing literary things, one of which became a movie that has also made its mark in my brain. Cheryl tells the girl to write. Just get it done. If the girl has belief enough to know she has a good book within her then her only course of action is to write. And write. Then do some more writing. Followed with…ok. You get the point.
So with these two articles in mind, I was shaken out of my funk and have stepped forward with some vague way to keep on keepin on.
First: Create something. Every day. Draw. Paint. Write. Draw with biro. Write with marker. Paint whilst L naps. Draw on Christmas cards while watching Inside Out and shifting between laughing and crying because that’s what that movie does to you.
And then: Don’t apologise. So what if it’s shit and makes me cringe and not want to share. How am I supposed to improve if I don’t make a thousand mistakes. No. Not mistakes. Attempts. At least I’m attempting. And improving. And finding my way.