People love to say, “I’m just not creative.”
I don’t believe that for a second.
I’m with Bob Ross on this one: “Talent is a pursued interest. Anything that you’re willing to practice, you can do.”
That idea matters because so many of us treat creativity like it’s something you’re either born with or permanently excluded from. As if some people were handed the “creative gene” and the rest of us were meant to admire from the sidelines.
I don’t buy it.
Creativity Isn’t Separate From Real Life
We tend to separate creativity from other skills, but I think they’re more connected than we realize.
When I learned how to start IVs, intubate patients, and place epidurals, none of it came naturally at first. It was awkward, frustrating, and full of repetition. If I had quit during the beginner stage and decided, This just isn’t for me, I never would have developed the skill required to work in anesthesia.
The same is true of almost anything we value.
If you gave up the first time you fell while learning to walk, you never would have learned to run. Basics exist for a reason. They train our brains and bodies. They create a foundation we can build on later.
Creativity works the same way.
The Problem Is We Want Creativity to Be Measurable
Here’s where people get stuck: they want creative practice to come with clear outcomes.
We’re comfortable with measurable progress in other areas. You successfully intubate a patient. You solve the equation. You lift the weight. You pass the test.
But creative work doesn’t always offer that kind of neat feedback.
Instead, people judge themselves with labels like:
- good artist
- bad artist
- talented
- not talented
- creative
- not creative
And if what they make doesn’t look “good enough,” they assume they don’t have creativity at all.
That’s simply not true.
You can be deeply creative and not be a painter.
Maybe your creativity shows up in cooking. In baking. In singing. In dancing. In the way you care for your family. In how you solve problems. In how you make a home feel warm and alive.
Just because it doesn’t hang on a gallery wall doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
The Practice Is the Point
The most important part of creativity is not the finished product. It’s the practice.
Practice gives us permission to be bad at something while we’re learning. It gives us room to experiment, play, and surprise ourselves.
If your creative practice becomes less about performance and more about exploration, everything changes.
Instead of asking:
Is this good?
You begin asking:
What happens if I try this?
What if I loosen up?
What if I make a mess?
What if I enjoy myself?
That shift opens doors perfectionism keeps locked.
What Happens in My Studio
My best studio sessions rarely happen when I’m trying to make something impressive.
They happen when I remind myself I’m there to play. To see what happens. To experiment without gripping the outcome so tightly.
That mindset removes pressure. It softens fear. It makes mistakes feel less permanent.
And honestly? That’s when the most alive work tends to emerge.
What I See in My Students
The biggest obstacle I see in beginning painters isn’t lack of talent.
It’s fear.
Fear that the painting will be terrible. Fear of wasting supplies. Fear of proving to themselves that they “can’t do it.”
But here’s the truth: as a beginner, you’re supposed to make bad art.
That isn’t failure. That’s tuition.
Every awkward painting teaches you something. Every muddy color mix sharpens your eye. Every canvas you dislike is part of the path toward making work you love.
That’s one reason I love teaching with acrylics-they’re forgiving. You can make a mistake, wait ten minutes, and paint right over it. There’s something beautiful about a medium that lets you begin again so easily.
A Better Way to Think About Creativity
If you’ve been telling yourself you’re not creative, maybe the problem isn’t your ability.
Maybe it’s your definition.
Creativity isn’t reserved for a gifted few. It belongs to anyone willing to stay curious, practice imperfectly, and let the process matter more than the outcome.
You don’t need permission to begin.
You only need the willingness to be a beginner.
