Do It Like Yourself
The problem with trying to be someone else
By Sue Pendleton, Founder
My art class is spending four weeks exploring abstract realism. Each week, our teacher is introducing a different way to get there.
For the first exercise, we started with a fully abstract painting, chose a subject, then painted the negative space around it so the subject emerged from what was already there.
I love abstract realism.
I also have a long history of making myself miserable trying to paint that way.
Part of the problem is that I’ve always assumed abstraction requires a kind of spontaneity I don’t naturally have. Just start. See what happens. Trust your instincts.
That sounds lovely.
It’s also not me.
Apparently, I like a plan
I’m analytical by nature. I like perspective. Values. Color theory. Drawing. The technical side of painting makes my brain happy.
For a long time, I treated that as something I needed to loosen my grip on if I wanted to become more expressive.
This time, I tried something different.
I accepted it.
I started with a rough sketch of an old barn on a hill with trees behind it. Then I thought about what the abstract layer underneath could be.
Old red barns always feel comfortable to me. Worn in. Solid. Familiar.
Which made me think of my husband’s endless supply of flannel shirts.
So I built the abstract background around plaid.
The geometry made sense with the architecture of the barn. The mixed colors gave me plenty to work with. And suddenly the assignment felt less like I was borrowing someone else’s process and more like I was making choices that belonged to me.
Stretching without pretending
As the painting developed, I kept adapting.
I cut out shapes for the barn, clouds and tree line. Covered too much. Adjusted the values. Simplified the building. Left out doors and windows. Added just enough detail to suggest the roof, trees and sky while allowing parts of the original abstract layer to stay visible.
The result wasn’t abstract realism the way someone else might paint it.
That was the point.
For once, I didn’t feel like I was trying to become a different kind of artist. I was learning a technique, understanding how it worked, and then filtering it through the way I naturally think and paint.
That gave me far more room to take risks.
We do this with marketing, too
Artists do the same thing with marketing.
We see someone who seems to be doing it well and copy the visible part.
They post every day, so maybe we should. They love video, so perhaps we need to get comfortable on camera. They send long newsletters. Go live from the studio. Plan months ahead. Post in the moment.
The trouble is, we’re copying the tactic without always understanding the principle underneath it.
There’s nothing wrong with borrowing a good idea.
But if the execution requires us to become someone we’re not, it probably won’t last.
Know the principle. Then make it ours.
The better question is not, “How are they doing it?”
It’s, “What is this actually trying to accomplish?”
Connection? Consistency? Visibility? Trust? An invitation to buy?
Once we understand the job, we can choose a way to do it that fits us.
A quiet artist doesn’t need to become a performer. Someone who likes structure doesn’t need to pretend to thrive on spontaneity. A person who hates writing may be wonderful at showing process through images.
That doesn’t mean we never stretch.
It means we stretch from somewhere real.
Acceptance gives us somewhere to start
I’d love to be the kind of painter who walks up to a blank canvas, throws down paint and simply follows intuition.
I’m not.
And accepting that didn’t make me less creative. It made me more willing to experiment because I was no longer fighting my own nature at the same time.
The same is true in marketing.
Self-knowledge is not a limitation.
It gives us a foundation.
Acceptance isn’t the opposite of growth. It gives growth somewhere solid to start.
