When Perfectionism Quietly Takes the Joy
I didn’t always paint freely.
In the beginning, I treated every sheet of paper as if it had to become something worthy. Something finished. Something impressive. I remember mixing colors carefully, testing every stroke in my mind before allowing the brush to touch the page.
As if one wrong move would prove that I wasn’t good enough.
There were days when I cleaned my palette more than I painted. When I told myself I was “preparing” - but in truth, I was postponing. I was waiting to feel ready.
And readiness felt like perfection.
Perfectionism can quietly steal the joy from creating.
On the surface, it can look like care or responsibility. But underneath, there is often fear.
Fear of wasting paper.
Fear of not being talented enough.
Fear of sharing something imperfect.
Self-doubt is something almost every artist carries, even quietly. There are moments when you wonder if you are allowed to call yourself an artist at all. When comparison makes you feel small. When you question whether your work is enough.
But being an artist has never been about perfection, or numbers, or validation.
It’s about returning. Returning to the page. Returning to the practice. Returning to yourself, even on the days when it feels uncomfortable. That’s also why I created my “2026 Art Habit Tracker” especially for my dear Patreons, designed for A3 printed size - 30cm x 42 cm (11.7 x 16.5 inches), with the file for downloading and printing.

Creating consistently, even when it feels uncomfortable. If you need a gentle place to begin, I’ve created a Beginner Guide to Watercolor Painting, a simple practice you can return to whenever you feel stuck. It includes beginner-friendly tutorials, practical tips, and small exercises designed to help you let go of perfection and start painting with ease.
Learning to Trust the Process Again
One of the gentlest ways to loosen perfectionism is to make the process smaller and safer. Sometimes I set a timer for 10 or 15 minutes and allow myself to paint without stopping, without correcting, without starting over.
Try this:
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Set a timer for 10 - 15 minutes
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Choose something simple
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Don’t restart
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Don’t fix
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Just finish
Knowing that the time is limited makes it easier to let go of expectations. The goal is not to create something perfect, but simply to stay present until the time ends.
Watercolor itself has been one of my greatest teachers in this. It flows in its own way. It blends, it moves, and sometimes it surprises you. The more tightly you try to control it, the more tense the experience becomes. But when you allow it to move naturally, the painting begins to breathe again.
I’ve found that having a sketchbook that exists purely for exploration can make this process feel safer. Opening a soft pink watercolor sketchbook that isn’t meant for finished pieces, but for practice, removes some of the pressure. It becomes a quiet place where mistakes are not failures, but simply part of the conversation between you and the paint.
Even the feeling of a brush in your hand can influence this experience. When a brush responds gently, you don’t feel the need to force the mark. The pigment flows more freely, and your movements soften with it.
This is one of the reasons I created my pink watercolor brush set. Your tools should feel like a support, not a source of pressure. They should make it easier to relax into the process and allow yourself to explore freely.
If you’d like to see how I use these tools in my own practice, come watch my video where I preview some of our bestselling essentials and share what you might need to begin your watercolor journey.
And in those quiet moments, watching the pigment spread, allowing an edge to remain imperfect, choosing not to correct every detail, trust begins to grow.
Not suddenly, but slowly.
Choosing Progress Over Perfection
Perfectionism doesn’t disappear overnight, but every time you show up anyway, it becomes quieter. Every time you finish something imperfect, it loses its grip.
Your art does not need to be flawless to be meaningful.
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It needs to be honest.
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It needs to be practiced.
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It needs to be yours.
So today, instead of trying to create something perfect:
Set a timer.
Pick up your brush.
Let the watercolor move.
And just begin.

Because the more often you return, the more you will realize that perfection was never the thing you were searching for. You were searching for connection, with your art, with the present moment, with yourself.
If you would like support while building this kind of gentle, consistent practice, I share longer tutorials, habit-building tools, and quiet creative guidance inside my Patreon community. It’s a space where the focus is not on perfection, but on growth, confidence, and learning to enjoy the process again.
That’s where the real magic lives.
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With love,
Kristine
1 comment
Hello Kristine—oh, how good it feels to read that! These are exactly the thoughts that run through my mind while I’m painting: “Can I pull this off? Will the subject turn out perfectly? Why isn’t it working today??” But it doesn’t matter—it’s all about the fun, the meditation, and the little successes we celebrate. And we are always too self-critical. But that is also what drives me forward. Warmest regards, Liesanne