You Don’t Have to Know Where You’re Going

Sometimes the best way to make something is to stop trying to know how it will turn out.

We like to know where we're going.

We want a plan.

A picture in our head.

Some idea of what the finished piece will look like.

It can feel safer that way.

But creativity doesn't always work like that.

Sometimes I begin with nothing more than a color I want to use.

Or a piece of paper that catches my eye.

I put it down.

Then I look at it.

Maybe it needs another color.

Maybe I add a line.

Maybe I move the paper somewhere else.

One choice gives me something to respond to, and that response leads to another choice.

I don't always know where I'm going.

And that's part of what makes it interesting.

When we decide too early what something is supposed to become, we can spend the rest of the time trying to make our work match that picture.

We stop noticing what's actually happening in front of us.

Maybe two colors mix and make something unexpected.

Maybe a torn edge creates a shape we hadn't planned.

Maybe a mark we thought was a mistake becomes the most interesting part.

Those things are easy to miss when we're too focused on the destination.

There is another way to work.

Start with what interests you.

Then respond to what happens.

What do I like here?

What feels interesting?

What might I try next?

Those questions don't require you to know the answer before you begin.

They only ask you to pay attention.

I think this is one reason making art can sometimes feel harder than it needs to.

We think we're supposed to have an idea.

Then we're supposed to know how to execute it.

And finally, we're supposed to end up with something good.

That's a lot to ask of a blank piece of paper.

Instead, what if the first decision were simply:

I like this color.

Or:

I want to tear this paper.

Or:

I wonder what would happen if I put this here.

That's enough.

You don't need to know what it means.

You don't need to know whether it will work.

You don't even need to know what you're making yet.

You can find out by making it.

This doesn't mean every piece will turn into something you love.

Some won't.

But even then, you've discovered something.

You've learned that you like one color beside another.

That you prefer torn edges to straight ones.

That you like layers.

Or empty space.

Or tiny marks.

Or bold shapes.

Little discoveries accumulate.

And eventually, you may realize that you aren't wandering quite as aimlessly as you thought.

You're developing preferences.

You're learning to trust your eye.

You're finding your way by making.

Maybe that's one of the nicest things about creativity.

You don't always have to know where you're going.

Sometimes you can simply begin and see where it takes you.

An Invitation

Choose one material today.

A pencil.

A brush.

A few scraps of paper.

A color you love.

Don't decide what you're going to make.

Do one thing.

Then stop and look.

Ask yourself:

What interests me now?

Respond to that.

Then ask again.

For five minutes, let each choice lead to the next.

No plan.

No destination.

Just curiosity.

See where it takes you.