I wouldn’t call myself an artist. I can’t draw a straight line. My sewing skills are at a beginner level. If I use paint, it gets everywhere. I have no 3D visualization skills. Evenness is beyond me. And yet, if you were to ask me whether I like arts and crafts, I’d answer with a resounding yes. Because you don’t have to be an artist to make art. You don’t even have to make good art. You should make art anyway.
One time, I tried to paint two of my cats using photo references. The paintings didn’t turn out very well. Both cats kind of looked like aliens. But I painted outside in lovely weather, listened to music I loved, and made something. It wasn’t very good, and I’m glad I made it.
I started writing stories for fun in middle school. Most of those stories were bad — embarrassing dialogue, embarrassing jokes, embarrassing character names. I’m glad I wrote them. I’m glad I’ve gotten better at writing, but even if I hadn’t, I’d still be glad I wrote them. I made something.
It’s easy to divide ourselves by our skills: painters, singers, writers. We’re told we ought to be good at something or not do it at all. If we try something occasionally as a fun project and aren’t very good at it, how does that define us? How does it box us in? It doesn’t. Painters can sing bad karaoke at dusty bars, singers can write messy poems to their partners, and writers can paint bad portraits of their cats. Does that make them painters and singers, or singers and writers, or writers and painters? Maybe. If they want to be. Or maybe it just makes them people who made something, people who weren’t afraid to make something outside their comfort zones, even if it was off-key or cliché, or their cats looked like aliens.
It’s good to be creative. It’s natural to be creative. Life is stressful and ridiculous, but when we create, it all makes sense for a moment. Some people paint giant murals. Some people doodle lazy daisies in their notebooks. Some people decorate their bags with buttons. Some people design cathedrals. Some people roll the windows down and sing Whitney Houston until they start coughing. So I’m not asking you to be an artist. I’m just saying that the next time you feel the urge to create, make art — even if it’s bad.