Overthinking as the Antithesis to Art

I am constantly overthinking things, whether it be focusing on irrelevant details, over complicating problems, psyching myself out, or getting overwhelmed by too many thoughts. It’s something I know a lot of people deal with, seemingly more in this generation than most, and it’s an interesting phenomenon. I can’t say exactly why I tend to overthink things (keep in mind I’m not a psychologist), but if I had to guess, I would say that it ties into the high expectations created by society and myself to be perfect, resulting in an unrealistic perfectionist attitude when approaching problems. I constantly have to remind myself that I’m focusing on the wrong parts of a problem and wasting time considering things that have little to no difference in my life in some futile search to be perfect. This problem of overthinking is most noticeable when I attempt to create art. Whether it be writing, drawing, making music, or even doodling, I always hit the brick wall of perfectionism. Those who know me might think I sound ridiculous; my work doesn’t usually speak of perfectionism, and it doesn’t seem like I always think things through. The truth is, that’s how I deal with my problem of overthinking: impulse and randomness.

An exercise in abstract art

When I sit down to write one of these posts, I start two or three different drafts on completely different concepts. I have a lot of great ideas and I can talk passionately about a lot of them, but as I start to write I often hit that wall, where suddenly it sounds ridiculous or unimportant and I psych myself out. Usually that’s when I delete the draft and start over with a new idea. This problem is often called writer’s block, but for me it’s a difference of being too critical of myself, not being unable to think of what to write. Similarly I also struggle to draw; although I’ve always had some talent at it, I never know what to draw. As a kid I would just copy the pictures from the how-to-draw books, not even the steps from beginning to end, just the final result. In the end I was great at drawing something realistically by looking at it, but when it came time to draw something new I always gave up. It wasn’t a lack of imagination, but the endless overthinking that frustrated me. As a result I don’t draw much anymore, and my doodles are just chaotic scribbles of frustration, but recently I discovered a way to get around perfectionism: by creating abstract art. It makes sense, especially considering how I often rely on impulse and randomness to get around overthinking. Abstract art practically embodies this approach, and I find that it’s a great way to create something; even if it’s not good, at least it’s better than creating nothing.

The moral of the story: if you struggle with creating things, especially art, just start with something easy or small. People often say that getting started is the hardest part, and even though I’m really tired of hearing it, I do think it’s inherently true. Aiming for perfection certainly doesn’t help either; if you always strive for something unattainable, you will never feel good about what you made, and likely you’ll be even less motivated to try again the next time.

Understanding Abstract Art

abstract art ● art that does not attempt to represent external reality, but seeks to achieve its effect using shapes, forms, colors, and textures

Abstract art gets a lot of biased and unnecessary criticism from popular culture; ask anybody, even people who don’t care or know anything about art, about their thoughts on the abstract art movement and I’m sure they’ll give you a strong opinion that they believe is 100% fact. I’ve had personal experience with these types of people many times, and they always say something to the effect of “this doesn’t make any sense”, or “how is this in a museum, it isn’t even good”, or the worst and most common phrase, “I could’ve made that”. To the last one, put bluntly, obviously you could have, but you didn’t, just like anything else in life. When you see a surgeon perform brain surgery, do you say “oh, I could’ve done that”? Obviously not, because although you hypothetically could have trained and went to school for many years to be able to do that, you didn’t. There is an element of respect involved that abstract artists just don’t seem to get. It has become popular to invalidate abstract artists and dismiss their art for no logical reason, and that’s an absolute shame. I would instead argue that the abstract movement has resulted in some of the most interesting art pieces in recent history, and that the movement as a whole is doing something that has never been done before.

Piet Mondrian
Composition II in Red, Blue, and Yellow – Piet Mondrian, 1929 

When confronted with a piece of abstract art, the impulse is to turn away; it’s unfamiliar, daunting, and complex. In essence, it’s a challenge to the viewer, an attempt to make them work for something, to truly examine what defines art. This is what I love about abstract art: it goes beyond the shallow world of reality and travels into the world of form and feeling. You don’t just examine it like a photograph, in a methodical and information gathering way, but instead must approach it as something new and conceptual, not just seen, but examined thoughtfully. For example, when I first see an abstract painting I often ask myself questions, such as “what do I feel?”, “what colors are being used and how does that define the aesthetic of the piece?”, “what are the subtle undertones of the painting? Is there tension, freedom, chaos, or something else?”. These types of questions often reveal something that I didn’t see right away, and help me understand the piece in my own unique way. That’s the other great side-effect of abstract art: there is no right answer and everybody can interpret it differently. It makes the piece feel personal, like it was made for you, and that relationship with art is something entirely unique.

(Header Image: Convergence, 1952 by Jackson Pollock – Jackson-Pollock.org)