Good doesn’t matter.
I’m talking in terms of creativity. And in terms of creativity, good doesn’t matter.
This thought plays constantly in my brain and sounds like that end-of-the-broadcast day television static noise from ‘olden times.’ I’m not always paying attention to the static or sometimes, I’m trying to ignore it. Regardless, it’s always there. Some days, I actively try to turn the thought off because I’m certain it’s actually a lie, just the final sound after a whole day of other stuff. Yet, somehow, the tv always turns back on. And often, I’m also trying to help others with this particular kind of static on their personal tvs and radios—trying to help them turn it off or ignore it.
This is the crux of a lot of my work as a Creative Consultant. With a couple of clients, one who is newer to the type of writing she’s doing and one who is getting back into consistent creativity after years of very real blocks, it’s the undercurrent of everything we’re trying to do. It’s hard to believe good doesn’t matter. But, whether you believe it or not, it’s a necessary mantra to allowing and cultivating creativity in your life.
Most of the systems we operate under in the modern age are set up to disconnect us from our creative impulses. Creativity is for, among other things, play and joy and reflection and healing. That means, often, creative impulses don’t turn into money-making schemes. Capitalism teaches us that if it doesn’t make money or isn’t a conventional form of “productivity” it’s not worthwhile. It’s net negative, not net positive. If you deign to do something creative anyway—knit, fingerpaint, cook, write, dance, sing—the common refrain is that if what you create is not good and/or you are not good at creating it, it’s not worthwhile. Furthermore, if you don’t monetize the creative hobby, then you absolutely should not do it. Capitalism asks, “What will it do for you?” Then Capitalism answers before you can get a word in edgewise, “Nothing!”
“Good” is the ultimate gatekeeper. Our lives are already filled with an abundance of actual gatekeepers that it feels cruel that one that is the most likely to stop us is the most existential one. The arbiters of “good” are much happier if there are strict parameters around the work. They want you to feel like art must be Art with a capital A and it must be something that can be monetized. They know that not everyone will be able to monetize. (This is how they set up the system.) They know that not everyone will show work in public or win awards or get accolades. They also know that if monetization and accolades or awards feel like a necessity to even do the thing in the first place, people will not do it. They want Art to be inaccessible. They want the expansiveness of creativity to appear to be a tiny dot somewhere on the horizon.
As someone who has been telling stories since she was two years old, who has been writing poetry since grade school and writing plays since high school, as someone who has been an actor and who has a major doodling, diy, and craft habit, I can tell you that “good” is a moving target and you are not equipped with the right tools to hit it. Productions, showings, public distribution, consistent sharing (such as a newsletter), accolades, awards, etc are nice but I would argue proving that the work is “good” is not the point of them. There are certainly people who make Art or write or perform with the purpose of being “good” but, in my experience, most people make art, write, perform, doodle, knit etc. because they have some something to explore, to share, need a way to find joy, want something to do with their hands. They do it simply because they want to or something deep inside tells them they must.
The issue with “good” is that we were taught, simply by living in the world, that there is a rubric for whatever you create. If you or your work hits certain points and achieves certain things, it (and you) will be good and considered a success. Then you will have done It. You made an Art. You are an Artist.
Moving target, remember? Milemarkers and finish lines that they have developed are inflexible and most people have to overcome a deficit before they can even buy running shoes to make any attempts. If you make an attempt and get too close, the finish line will move. No one will tell you but it will move. You’ll be sweaty, out of breath, bleeding from the knees, looking around at where the finish line was supposed to be and not seeing it. You’ll start to doubt you knew where it was in the first place.
“Good” is something that is decided outside of you. It’s something that you will have very little control over ultimately. There is a whole…many other conversations to have about artistic criticism and merit, what is good, what gets shown or made, what gets missed and why. Intertwined with that are, for starters, conversations about arts instruction and its toxicity, arts as a career, arts related financial things that no one ever taught us, and rejection and how to take that. In the simple act of making art, writing, exploring creativity on your own for your own benefit, there is no “good.” “Good” is a block. There only is doing it.
Anna Brones, who writes the newsletter called Creative Fuel with Anna Brones, shared some great insights as she was cleaning out her studio getting ready for a move. She discussed getting rid of the work that no longer serves her as well as other artists who notoriously destroyed their own work. I think there is a lot of merit to that. I would not say I’m a huge proponent of making a consistent habit of destroying your work partially because you learn from what you made previously (I won’t call them mistakes) but also because other people will learn from your attempts. However, I do think there’s something to knowing that you can try something and get rid of it.
“Even if we scrap an old piece of work, recycle a piece of paper with a jumble of notes, are we ever fully getting rid of our underlying ideas? We may not remember the exact wording or composition that we came up with once it has left our hands, but that doesn’t erase it from our muscle memory.
To make “bad” art, to write an assortment of “bad” sentences—it’s all just practice. Whether or not we keep what we came up with, the practice has already been done, already been logged in the brain and the body. Already information for the next piece.
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There’s something to knowing that whatever you create doesn’t have to be permanent. You don’t even have to share it with anyone if you don’t want to. You don’t have to be “good” at it right away. Or ever. You can just enjoy it. There’s something to knowing that everyone who tries something creative likely also wants to destroy something they’ve made at some point along the way, from the very famous writers to a distant relative who painted the landscape out their window. And, ultimately, if you really want to, it is true that you can absolutely destroy a thing you’ve made if you don’t like it. It’s yours to do with as you like.
I think that’s the crux of the whole thing. It’s whether you like it or not. It’s whether it serves you or not. It’s whether you want to have access to it or not. You don’t have to have goals for whatever creative thing you’re trying. You can, of course. If you need a goal to do the work, I’d say, the best goal is to finish. To get all of something out. Or, actually, the best goal might be just to start. But you can also do it just to do it. To give it a shot. You can share every attempt with anyone you want to. You can never tell anyone you tried it at all. It’s really about finding how you feel the best expressing yourself. It’s about exploring all the tools you have to tell your own story, to explore how you exist in the world, to make discoveries about the greater world, to find joy. There are no rules for having Art or art in your life. To be a creative person, you only have to create, however that makes sense to you.
Creativity is not a tiny dot. It’s a circle. As you approach it, it’s always getting bigger.
A version of this post appeared as ‘Good Doesn’t Matter’ in This’ll Have to Do on July 14, 2024.