A few months ago I set out to paint a picture. I sat there with a blank canvas, paints, and brushes and imagined how beautiful the end result would be. I could already envision it hanging in my room, displayed proudly for all to see. But as the painting progressed, I began to realize that the beautiful painting in my head was likely to stay only in my imagination. The colors were ugly, the image was misshapen, and the image was taking on a disturbing resemblance to a child’s finger painting. By the time I was finished, it was truly awful.
But I consider it the best thing I’ve ever created. I believe in making bad art.
In my definition of “bad art,” not every object created is even ugly. Instead, bad art focuses on the process of creating more than the end result. For me, art has always been a way to promote relaxation and emotional well-being. Believing in bad art is letting go of the result, painting despite the possibility of an ugly outcome, and being proud of flawed textiles and lumpy sculptures. Bad art is when the result takes a back seat to how I feel when I am creating.
Making bad art allows me to cope with stressful or emotionally difficult situations positively. There’s something uniquely beautiful about transforming negative experiences into a tangible object that isn’t seen elsewhere in life.
When my cat of 16 years was put to sleep, I took the emotions I was feeling and went to work knitting a hat. It may seem silly, but creating helped me get through the grief I felt. Even now, in periods of particularly high stress, I can be found strumming a ukulele in my room. I don’t really play the ukulele and my song lyrics would make any songwriter cringe, but the result pales in comparison to the stress relief I gain.
Art for art’s sake is a concept that is hard to articulate in a society that likes to define things strictly as successes or failures, without taking into account the creative process. This has caused the final product to become infinitely more important than the steps taken to get there. Too often I hear people say things like “I’m not an artist,” or “I can’t draw.” They are so afraid of creating something ugly, that they won’t create at all. Art should not force someone to strive for perfection, it should act as refuge for relaxation and emotion.
So although my work isn’t attractive by traditional standards, it will continue to be hung in places of honor around my room. If I felt happy making it, then it is just as worthy as a beautiful final project. Because art does not have to be good by society’s definition to be successful by mine. I believe in making bad art.
Meghan Shiels is a public relations major at Penn State and a WPSU intern.
