by Selene Li
What if the secret to finding your creativity is not in perfection, but in the messy, liberated failure of making “bad” art?
To finish an art assignment, I have spent my entire weekend agonising over what the painting should “mean.” I obsess over angles and fret over every small part that could possibly go “wrong.” By the end of the day, I haven’t actually moved forward; I am paralysed in the thinking stage, neglecting the making stage. I tell myself I’ll push through, in the hope that exhaustion will finally override my perfectionism so I can finish the project and sleep.
It isn’t until the critique that I realise I’ve missed the theme entirely. I focused so intently on the details that I forgot the bigger picture. The result is a painting completed at the last minute, its surface masking hours of wasted sketches. The quality doesn’t match my expectations. However, this failure reveals what I am capable of and what I’m not. It motivates me to do better. It suddenly occurred to me that, maybe, making “bad” art is actually not a bad thing, but an essential part of the journey.
“Bad” art is subjective, but for many, it implies a lack of skill or a finish that looks unpolished. It is the gap between what the maker intended and what actually appeared on the canvas. Unfortunately, we often use the fear of making something “bad” as an excuse to stop creating altogether.
We’ve all heard that art is about self-expression rather than polished outcomes or high scores, but do we actually believe it? As humans, we crave validation, uniqueness and yearn to be the best at something. When that doesn’t happen, disappointment saps our motivation. We ask ourselves: What’s the point of creating if it’s going to be bad anyway?
We are afraid to create because we are afraid of failing our own expectations. I always spend way too much time preparing and researching than actually working on the painting. Then I end up giving up on it before I even start. Even while penning the article, I am overwhelmed by ideas in my head and my fear of falling short, even though I have done nothing about it.
There is a liberating mantra for this: “Make it exist first; you can always fix it later.” It reminds me that you can’t fix what doesn’t exist. Embracing this mindset liberates us from unrealistic expectations and allows for genuine expression.
Cy Twombly is an artist whose work defies the idea of being skilful and perfect but embraces messiness. While critics often dismissed his work with the tired “my child could do that” line, Twombly’s style was actually the result of “de-skilling.” To break free from traditional rules, he purposefully sabotaged his own skills, spending years drawing in the dark or using his wrong hand to erase his professional muscle memory.
Twombly wasn’t trying to be “bad”; he was trying to be visceral. He ditched the polished, practised line and found a unique style of his own. He proves that when we stop obsessing over perfection, we will finally have room for authenticity. To find your true style, you have to be brave enough to let go of being “good.”
Even when I free myself from my own expectations, the weight of outside judgment remains. However, creating bad art really helps shift my focus away from the end product to the creative process itself. It encourages me to be playful and experimental, understanding that it’s okay to mess up, which is essential to the learning process.
Sure, I might not feel skilled sometimes, but I know I can’t get better without actually dipping my toes in it and practising. The satisfaction of finally getting something right makes the journey worthwhile. In a hectic society where your values are determined by how much you give, art can be an exception. Enjoy the simple act of making, away from the pressures of the outside world.
Today, making art is becoming even more crucial and, in my opinion, is how we prove ourselves human. With the rise of AI, doing something authentic by yourself is revolutionary. While machines can churn out perfect images in seconds, there’s an immense value humans bring to their artwork because it comes from their heart and soul. In a tech-driven society obsessed with algorithmic perfection, choosing to create art, regardless of its quality, is a powerful rejection of societal pressures to conform. Art gives unique experiences and emotions that only the living can share.
By recognising the importance of making bad art, we can shift our perceptions of creativity. Embrace the messiness, the imperfections and the joy of trying something new. Don’t wait for the perfect idea. Just create something. Make bad art. ■
Selene Li, 15, is a student at HKFYG Lee Shau Kee College. She enjoys reading, watching video essays, and, like many, often finds herself scrolling through her phone.