I’ve never made something that wasn’t a painted over failure.
Beneath the bits of paper and paint, below the brush strokes and splatter, in the fine print between the words, one can find the remnants and remains of the piece I wish I could have made; the scaffolding of the writing that I tried to construct but couldn’t. Making means making mistakes, constantly and consistently.
Adam savage writes that “Whether from impatience or arrogance, inexperience or insecurity, lack of knowledge or lack of interest, you are going to tear seams, break bits, snap joints, misdrill, overcut, under-measure, miss deadlines, injure yourself, and generally just make a mess of things. There will be moments when, if you are not losing interest in a project, you are losing your mind about it. It will be confusing, dispiriting, and infuriating. About this prediction, I have three words for you: WELCOME TO MAKING!”
I often need to be reminded of the inherent necessity of failure required in the process of making. I so easily forget or become deluded into thinking that somehow I have moved past or risen above all mistake making. But, failure always has a way of finding me. Yet, I can take some solace in the knowledge that if I am making mistakes, if I am failing, if I am fucking up: that means that I am attempting to make things beyond my current abilities. Failure is what learning looks like…
Art is the practice that makes failure perfect. Art is failure perfected.
Keep showing up, Keep doing the work, FAIL BOLDLY, and Let’s make something meaningful.
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