I suck at painting

That’s exactly why I took it on

Doing something I suck at: painting.

During the height of COVID quarantine, I, a professional writer, did the unthinkable: I picked up a paintbrush.

The long tool felt funny in my hand. My pencil grip, which involved four fingers, felt incompatible with this paintbrush. I struggled to balance it in the nook between my thumb and index finger, but it fell out of my hands immediately.

I haven’t even gotten paint on the brush and yet, the struggle was already real.

On my laptop screen, a Skillshare instructor was explaining the different types of brushes and their various shapes: square-like or flat, pointy like a teardrop, or round like a makeup brush. I looked at my sad collection of cheap brushes from the local art store. They didn’t look as nice, but I was determined to make some use out of them.

The instructor laid out an array of colors onto a ceramic palette. I followed suit, meticulously uncapping my tubes of gouache and squeezing them out of their tubes and onto a white, plastic palette. Gouache is an opaque version of watercolor and comes in liquid, paste form. They were supposed to layer solidly on top of each other. I thought that would have been more forgiving for my mistakes, versus the more transparent nature of watercolors.

Up until this point, I was mainly known for being a wizard with my words. I had a job in reporting, which involved a combination of stringing words together in a coherent sentence and asking pointed questions that could yield interesting answers. I often helped friends to edit their personal statements and essay assignments, having the knack to point out inconsistencies in ideas or slightly awkward phrasing.

What I was most definitely not known for: wielder of watercolors; pigment prestidigitator; master of mark-making.

It also helped that painting was a relatively accessible activity. It was a lockdown period after all, and time seemed to expand infinitely. Day after day was spent staring at my laptop screen, conducting virtual interviews and writing words that appear and disappear on an electronic interface. Reporting was fun, but it became very boring once 100% of my time and energy were devoted to that.

I wanted to find a fun home activity, and Skillshare’s various art classes found me. Given that my visual capabilities were limited to conjuring stickpeople, I figured that I could not suck any more than that. Since I never thought I had any drawing abilities, there were no expectations to be had: no assumptions on how many likes this artwork will have on Instagram; no preconceived notions that what was to emerge from these blank pages were to become a masterpiece; no predictions on how much this piece will sell for (because there are no monetary objectives involved). Having 0 skills became the most freeing aspect of painting.

My first painting consisted of wonky blue shapes that were supposed to resemble petals. My next one was a grassy field of red tulips set against a bright, blue sky. The one after that was a series of stars, or white dots on a black backdrop. Each of these paintings were products of Skillshare tutorials that I followed step by step. Though I did so religiously, my results could not look any more different than the teachers’ onscreen.

But it did not matter. It didn’t take long for me to buy more sketchbooks, watch more tutorials, and fill in more pages. I took my shabby art and hung them on my apartment walls, bright, tranquil nature paintings set against the plain, white stucco. When that wall was filled, my partner, ever the cheeky one, would walk my friends through those paintings as if they were an exclusive solo exhibition.

The freeing spirit continued to imbue all the pages in my sketchbook, with nobody judging my art unless I choose to show it off. Every time I feel challenged by a subject, I think to myself: I suck, and this painting will not turn out great. I suck now, because the next one is going to be better. I’ll learn something from this painting session, and that is enough. So here’s to sucking today, and sucking less tomorrow.

Every painting became proof of my own liberating act.

I have had so much fun with my painting sessions that I decided to start documenting my trials and tribulations in painting and put them on – heck, why not – YouTube. I didn’t know how to handle video cameras, but I figured I couldn’t suck more than not creating a video. A year later, I now take my viewers around Hong Kong as I find comfortable spots in the shade and fill in blank pages with various marks. Creating these videos too have become a fun and freeing pastime, taking walks and finding new sights to document with both my camera and my sketchbook.

I think I still suck at painting. And I definitely still suck at making videos. But that’s what this space is for: to have fun, to make marks, and to play.

Thank you to friends who embraced this essay since its “suckiest” version:

Kirsten Corbett

,

Lavinia Iosub

,

Wes Lambert

,

The Conversation Starter

, and

Latham Turner

.

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Update log:

• 🤝 A good friend offered to repair our air conditioner. Living in a city away from family and without speaking the language, this action of support left a really strong impact on me.

• 🥩 Invited my workout coach out for dinner. In gym “bro” fashion, we went to get grilled meat after Bodypump. Towards the end of the meal, he asked if I needed a favour or had something to ask, but it really was just to catch up and reconnect.

• 🏋🏻 Started hosting open gyms for Write of Passage friends, weekly on Thursdays. This is a one-hour slot to spar ideas, ask for feedback from a partner, or write.

• 🎧 Huberman Lab - Dr. Jeffrey Goldberg: How to Improve Your Eye Health & Offset Vision Loss. This is my first Huberman Lab episode but I was really curious about eye health. It’s something I don’t know much about, even though I opted for a life-changing laser surgery earlier this year.

• 🎧 The Prof G Pod with Scott Galloway - Conversation with Simon Sinek. Simon asked Scott about a profound childhood memory. During Scott’s graduation, his mother showed up and waved her hands in unbridled joy. She couldn’t contain herself: her son was graduating and delivering the commencement speech. Scott choked up recalling this, and it made listeners (or well, me) felt a lil something something.

• 📚 Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman (62% completed).

• 📹 On the YouTube channel: Zag while others are zigging: urban sketching with dried gouache