The Art of Failure

This is the result of my first attempt at a self portrait. For weeks, a partially completed version of this painting haunted the corner of my studio, staring back at me, a silent testament to a fear I couldn't quite articulate. Not good, not bad, just okay. I knew it wasn't finished, but I couldn't get past the dread of ruining it with a few strokes of my brush.

Finally, I pushed myself to place it back on my easel. I was tired of looking at it with this ridiculous trepidation. I told myself what my art instructor always says, "It's only paint". The result? It transformed into an unsalvageable mess; another "I'm never enough" moment. I had to erase the evidence. As I began to gesso over the wreckage, a desperate attempt to hide my artistic shame, my inner critic whined with disappointment, "Donna, you are a fraud." But as the gesso layered over my face, the canvas transformed the story for me (weirdly, I kind of like how it looks now). This was not just a failed attempt, but a moment of courage. I was afraid, but I tried anyway. More than that, it signified an important truth: I recognized when something wasn't working and I wasn't afraid to let it go and try again.

Growth isn't born from flawless victories; it blossoms in the fertile ground of failure. I've stumbled countless times, at countless endeavors, but if it truly matters to me, I will persist. I may never produce a portrait I'm proud of and that's ok. The real masterpiece is in the process of learning from each "failure" and enjoying the process of developing skills through patience. Embracing failure, not as an end, but as the very heart of the learning process, is key.

I'll finish covering this one up with gesso and it will be a blank slate, making this lesson feel more like a fresh beginning than a defeat.