Intuitive Painting and the Wild Ride of Risk and Change

One of the places where my students will often find themselves getting stuck or stopped in the intuitive painting process is when they encounter the common fear of ruining a painting. One moment they will be happily painting away and then they get an internal directive to paint something that scares them. It could be anything. It could be the desire to paint the color yellow, or maybe they find that they can’t seem to shake the idea that what wants to be painted now is a purple kangaroo, but whatever it is, in conjunction with this new impulse there arises a sudden, paralyzing and extremely convincing fear that bringing this next color or image into the painting is going to mess it up.

It’s fascinating to me whenever this happens. For one thing, this fear is often pretty irrational. One of my students articulated it so clearly when she said “It’s just so weird. It’s not like I have any plans for this painting. I’m not going to take it home and frame it. So why am I so worried about ruining it?” At other times the painting has become too precious. The painter gets overly attached to the painting because they like what they have done or are pleased with how something has turned out, and get frozen by the desire to preserve this moment of satisfaction.

Generally the concern about ruining the painting comes up when the painter is contemplating doing something risky. Often they are drawn to try something they have never done before. They find themselves being infused with the spirit of holy experimentation and have arrived at a creative threshold where they are now ready to take a chance. This is a thrilling moment where the creative process is pushing, persuading, and cajoling them with the promise of something new, something different, something that has never existed in the world before.

The impulse to “ruin” a painting often shows up at a point where the artist is unconsciously tired of playing it safe. There is some part of them that is ready to shake things up by venturing into hitherto unexplored territory. They know that what they are about to paint is going to radically change the feeling or direction of the painting, and some part of them is really ready for that change. And right at the same time the fearful, cautious, conservative, let’s play it safe part of the mind comes in and starts urgently whispering that this change is going to be very, very bad.


When I have a conversation with my students at this point in their process, they will say something to me like, “Well, if I take the gamble and go in this new direction I might not like what happens.” And it is my job to remind them that yes, that may be true. Maybe they won’t like what happens next. But they have to be willing to take that risk. I also have to remind them that they have chosen to be here in this class because some part of them is very interested in using their engagement with the creative process to challenge themselves to stretch and to grow. As scary as it might be at times, what they are really hungering for is an experience of being more awake and alive.

The painting is an excellent place to try new things because what you paint really does not matter.