I’ve been thinking about failure. About journeys. Curiosity. Ebbs and flows. Changes.

We’re constantly in a state of change. Sometimes the change is so slow, so gradual, we don’t notice. Other times we’re faced with bigger changes. Or decisions we have to make which will lead to change.

My friend Dana has been pondering change as she decides the direction of the next steps of her journey. She shared a link to a post by Ellie Beck about her decision to move out of her studio space to work from home. It reminded me of Carrie Bloomston’s story about going back to a day job.

We don’t always talk about these things publicly. About struggles. Challenges. Fear. Failure. But I think it’s important to acknowledge that we all struggle. In big ways and in smaller ones. And just because we’re struggling, it doesn’t mean we’re failing. A change of direction isn’t failure, either.

What is failure, anyway? There are 2,528 quotes on failure on Goodreads. Even just reading a few of them is inspiring. A spur to keep going. Keep dreaming. Keep DOing. I would say the only real failure is to give up, but sometimes even that isn’t failure. I gave up ice skating and ballet and playing the piano, but is that failure? Isn’t it simply narrowing down who I am and what I’m interested in? I gave up selling crocheted and sewn jewelry and accessories. Is that failure? Maybe. Though I think it’s more narrowing down, more focusing. None of us can do everything. Often we must choose one thing over another thing. It’s not a bad thing at all.

Recently I’ve been thinking about failure on much smaller scale. I’ve been working on a painting of my amaryllis plant. With my garden covered in snow and ice I pounce on whatever botanical inspiration I can find. I couldn’t not paint the dramatic flowers blooming inside.

Everything started out so well. And then it came time for me to remove the masking fluid I’d used for the stamens and pistil. It would not come off. Instead of balling up and cleanly coming up, it smooshed into the paper causing a huge smudge. It wasn’t salvageable.

I’ve never been a fan of masking fluid. For a variety of reasons. One of them is that it’s hard to put it on the paper with even, fine lines. And then an artist friend recommended a pen version in her Skillshare class. The reviews online weren’t great, but I figured those people didn’t know what they were doing (the key, as with any masking fluid, is not leaving it on the paper for very long. If I use it, I try to remove it the same day). I bought it and tried it out and loved the level of detail it allowed.

But I still didn’t use it very often. I think the amaryllis painting was the third time.

Perhaps the masking fluid separated as it sat in my studio month after month. Maybe I didn’t shake it well enough before using. Perhaps it has a short shelf-life. I don’t know the reason it didn’t work (but I do know I’m not the only one who had the problem and now I feel bad for disparaging those negative reviewers in my head).

The ruined painting wasn’t that big of a deal. Sure it was a waste of time and paper, but the painting was still in its beginning stages. I started over.

The second painting attempt was going great. And then I couldn’t see where I’d sketched a line and put paint where I shouldn’t have.

Attempt number three stopped before it even got started. As I made my initial sketch on the watercolor paper, a strange smudge appeared and I couldn’t remove it.

On instagram I talked about the false starts and forgot to mention one more. As I added the first strokes of paint on attempt number four I also added a big smear of red paint in the white space beside the plant.

Ugh!

Was this failure? These painting attempts that ended up in the trash one after another?

If I had stopped there, maybe so. But I didn’t. I picked up my pencil and sketched an amaryllis on my watercolor block and started over. For the 5th time.

When I was a beginner I know I wouldn’t have been brave enough to fail four times in a row. I would have stopped, probably after the second attempt. Maybe even after the first.

I have a few more details I want to add before calling it finished. Looking back at that first attempt, although I love how the faded flowers were turning out, I’m glad I decided to paint the amaryllis in full bloom instead of past its prime. Perhaps it’s a good thing the first version didn’t work out.

As for versions two through four? Well, they were a good lesson about failure.

I don’t know if you’re struggling with something right now. Something that doesn’t seem to be working out or a decision you need to make. Or maybe there’s a change that’s out of your control, or a disappointing rejection. None of these things need to be the end of the story. None of them have to be failure. If you’re struggling, hang in there. Keep going. And know you’re not alone.