During last week’s workshop at Sedona Art Center, I talked to two artists about fear of failure. It’s a costly mistake. Every risk we avoid accrues a debt to ourselves that we can never repay.
Fear is itself failure, and it usually arrives quietly. It’s the painting you overwork because you’re afraid to stop. It’s timid color choice when boldness is called for. It’s the overly-safe composition that is dead on arrival.
If you’re going to mess up, go big
Years ago, my friend Brad Marshall showed me a bin full of failed paintings in his studio. It gave me a goal. There are 300-400 starts in my studio that I’ll never finish, I haven’t decided if I like or that are just plain awful. That’s an accomplishment, believe it or not. I no longer worry when things don’t work. That gives me freedom to keep working.
Of course, I still have crises of nerves. I’m having one right now as a matter of fact, which is why I stopped to write this post. But the only way to resolve it is to swallow my panic and get right back to work.
Painting, like all creative disciplines, is built on failure. As a painting teacher, I can reduce your failure rate by teaching you color mixing, value and composition, but in the end you have to do the work. That means a long trail of awkward, unresolved attempts. The artist who succeeds is not the one who avoids failure, but the one who metabolizes it.
What fear does
“Days they force you/Back under those covers/Lazy mornings they multiply…” sang Needtobreathe. It’s easy to avoid facing our fears, but days can turn into weeks and then into years without challenging yourself to make art.
Even with brush in hand, fear changes your behavior in subtle ways. You hesitate. You second-guess. You fuss. Your brushwork tightens, your color dulls and your process stalls.
What if I’m not a genius after all?
As long as art exists mostly in our fantasies, we can tell ourselves that we would be great if only we had the time/space/money/support to pursue our art. What I’ve realized in my dotage is that I don’t have to be brilliant to make a contribution. I just have to keep working.
Painting is a numbers game
The more canvases we complete, the more problems we solve. The more problems we solve, the more fluent we become. Fear interrupts that cycle. It convinces us to linger too long, to over-polish work, to protect what should be risked.
So too, readiness is a myth. Confidence doesn’t precede action; it follows it. If you wait for fear to disappear, you will wait forever.
The solution is process and repetition. Painting or drawing a little bit every day helps you get over your dithering about getting started. A repeatable process means you’re less likely to spiral into doubt or self-loathing. Process doesn’t eliminate failure, but it makes it manageable.
Don’t try to avoid failure, outrun it
Equally important is momentum. Give yourself permission to move on from a painting that isn’t working. Start another and another. Each fresh surface is an opportunity to apply what the last failure taught you.
Happy first day of spring
“March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” I’ve seen snow on Mother’s Day so each year I try to rewrite that proverb to express my disgust when winter refuses to let go. This year my version is, “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lion with a thorn in its paw.” I invite you to do better.
Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:
- Advanced Plein Air Painting | Rockport, ME, July 13-17, 2026
- Sea & Sky | Acadia National Park, ME, August 2–7, 2026
- Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air | Berkshires, MA, August 10-14, 2026
- New! Color Clinic 2026 | Rockport, ME, October 3-4, 2026
- New! Composition Week 2026 | Rockport, ME, October 5-9, 2026
Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:
Brilliant push! Thank you 😊
You’re very welcome! Hope this finds you painting.
This may be the single most important lesson for any artist. Well put.
Thank you, neighbor!