In my new gluebooks group, many members are confronting creativity issues head-on. Online friend Ann wrote something this week that started my wheels turning. In describing her own struggles with creativity, she said:

“I am adamant that I won’t do the same as I did with (altered books). I spent so much time thinking about how to get it right, I didn’t get anything done.”

Getting it right. Don’t we all find ourselves on some sort of eternal, warped quest for this elusive perfection?

As artists, we often sabotage our own creativity by creating reasons not to get work done. I don’t know the techniques. I don’t have the right materials. I don’t have time. My workroom isn’t organized enough. Do any of these excuses sound familiar?

The idea that we have to get it right is one of our biggest creative enemies. Right according to whom? Right according to what criteria? The quest for the elusive right often results in unfinished, overworked pieces and frustrated artists. Why? Because, in plain terms, there is no universal right. There is no one set of rules that tells us when we’ve created a perfect piece, and when we’ve created something that should go directly into the nearest dumpster. Art is subjective—what I love, you may think is complete crap.

Who inflicted the mythical idea of right upon us? Well, think about how many of us are taught about art as children. We’re given crayons and a blank sheet of paper, and asked to draw a tree, usually without any training or preparation—just draw. The child who produces a brown trunk and green leaves is praised as a brilliant artist. The one at the back of the room who draws a single leaf in purple and turquoise is sent to the school’s psychologist for tests. After years of being taught that there is a right way to draw a tree, is it any wonder that as adults, we have some need to live up to a certain set of expectations?

When it comes to making art, try to liberate yourself from the traditional idea of right and wrong. In the world of your own art, your own personal expression, there is only this right and wrong: if you express yourself, it’s right, and if you keep it locked in, it’s wrong. If you make something that someone else deems hideous—well, who cares? The art police will not come knocking at your door and revoke your gel medium, I promise. The important thing is to let those creative sparks ignite, rather than smothering them under a blanket of other peoples’ opinions.

In Ann’s case, my advice to her was simple: instead of looking for criteria that proves your work is right, try making finished your goal. Make your motto this:

It may not be right, but it’s finished

Make your art, decide it’s finished, and then move on to the next piece. Don’t waste time beating yourself up because it doesn’t look a certain way, or it doesn’t measure up to someone else’s aesthetic. The important thing is that you did it, not how well you did it according to some arbitrary rules that were forced on you as a child. If there are things you dislike about the piece, or things you wish you had done differently, make a mental note, and use that information to create your next finished piece. This isn’t trying to get it right—this is learning and growing, according to your own inner voice. Sooner or later, all the finished work leads to your own innate feeling of what is right, not according to random standards, but according to your own inner rhythm. With practice, creating becomes instinctive, as natural an act as breathing—but to get to that point, first you must actually shed your fears and make things. Lots of them.

So, what are you waiting for?