I used to follow this guy on Instagram. He would fill a bucket with paint and swing it from a rope that was tied to the ceiling. Maybe you’ve seen him. He had pink hair.
The bucket swung over giant canvases, usually black, sometimes white. He’d hold the bucket off the edge of the canvas and then let it go. It turns out paint pouring out of a swinging bucket lands in patterns. Symmetric. Beautiful.
Then he figured out how to put a bunch of colors in the bucket. Things got better. And his studio was a mess. Paint on the walls, the floor, and on him. A proper artist’s mess. I think that’s what work looks like. He just swung buckets till he got it right. Making a mess along the way.
When we were kids, making a mess was okay. At some point, we made it not okay. We stopped ourselves, mostly. The best artists make a mess. The best craftsmen make a mess. They aren’t sloppy. They’re making.
Making makes a mess.
And maybe the best lives come out of what looks like a mess. Someone making. Trying. Failing. Learning.
Less perfection. More making. Unapologetic making. Let’s go. Swing some buckets, friends.
Take care. Be good.
-kv
