You’re Allowed to Change Your Mind

Nothing you choose while making something has to be permanent.

You’re allowed to change your mind.

You can paint over it.

Tear it apart.

Move something.

Remove something.

Change the color.

Start again.

Sometimes we treat our first creative decision as though it were a commitment.

We choose blue, so now the painting has to be blue.

We glue down a piece of paper and immediately wonder if we put it in the wrong place.

We begin drawing something and feel like we have to finish it.

But making something isn’t a straight line.

It’s a conversation.

You do something.

You look at what happened.

Then you decide what to do next.

Sometimes the answer is I like that.

Sometimes it’s That needs something else.

And sometimes it’s simply Nope.

All three are useful.

I’ve had plenty of times when something I was making wasn’t working. My first instinct was often to figure out how to save it.

Maybe if I added something here.

Maybe if I changed something there.

Maybe I could somehow make the original idea work.

But sometimes the most interesting thing happens when I stop trying to rescue the original idea.

I cover part of it.

I tear something off.

I turn it around.

I introduce a color I hadn’t planned to use.

Suddenly I’m responding to what’s actually in front of me instead of trying to make it match the picture I had in my head.

That’s part of the creative process.

We often think creativity is about having a good idea and then successfully carrying it out.

But much of creativity happens after the first idea.

It happens in the adjustments.

The unexpected choices.

The things that don’t work.

The moments when you think, What if I tried this instead?

Changing direction doesn’t mean you made a mistake.

It means you noticed something.

And noticing gives you information.

Maybe the color feels too heavy.

Maybe the composition feels crowded.

Maybe you’ve lost the part you liked most.

Maybe you’re simply more interested in something else now.

You’re allowed to follow that.

There is no prize for staying faithful to your original plan.

The piece you end up making doesn’t have to be the piece you thought you were going to make.

In fact, sometimes the best thing you can do is let it surprise you.

An Invitation

The next time something you’re making doesn’t feel quite right, resist the urge to immediately decide that it isn’t working.

Instead, change one thing.

Cover an area.

Remove something.

Turn the page.

Add an unexpected color.

Cut something apart.

Then look again.

Ask yourself:

What does this need now?

Not:

How do I get back to my original idea?

Give yourself permission to follow where the work is going.

You can always change your mind.