*This blog post was originally sent out as part of my Message In A Bottle monthly newsletter. For some context, I spent the past 6 months preparing to dive headfirst into full time cruising on my sailboat, I began my trip, made it to Long Island Sound, absolutely hated it, and decided to change course. This was written in the immediate aftermath.*
Hi friends!
I have a story for you all about a recent print I made, but first I have a pretty big update for you:
Phoenix and I are no longer cruising. After making it down to Long Island Sound, I decided to turn my sailboat around and return to Lake Champlain.
Of course, I’m feeling a lot of feelings about this. It was a scary and hard decision to make, but for the sake of my emotional wellbeing, it was the right one.
This email isn’t going to dive too deep into that decision, but I wrote more extensively about it in my Captain’s Log this month – a mini-publication that is available by subscription on Patreon.
Ok, with that bit of background, here is my story about the print!
Upon returning to Lake Champlain, it was time to make the design for this month’s postcard (you can click here for more info on that!). As I sat in Phoenix’s cockpit and contemplated what to sketch out, I knew I wanted the image to somehow represent the experience I’d just had with change, failure and growth.
The symbol of the Phoenix kept nagging me. And for whatever reason, I kept trying to avoid it.
I brainstormed and brainstormed, but just kept coming back to the Phoenix. The name of my boat, the name of my business, and by far the most fitting symbol for the past few months.
So why was I shying away from it so much?
The answer to this question felt so shallow and dumb at first, but upon reflection I realize there’s actually a lot there.
I was shying away from the Phoenix because I was scared it would turn out ugly.
Over the years of creating art aboard s/v Phoenix, I’ve come back to the possibility of this print many times. But each time, I look up representations of the Phoenix, and they just don’t really appeal to me.
In the end, after lots and lots of sketching in my notebook, I created something that I really love. I loved the postcard so much that I made a larger print version – the largest print I’ve done yet.
Ever since turning my boat around I’ve been really chewing on the idea of failure. When sharing my decision in a reel on instagram, I used the word failure, and let me tell you – people did NOT like it. The vast majority of the (honestly SO lovely) comments included some version of “it’s not a failure”.
The idea of failure is SO scary to us.
The hesitancy I was feeling to make the Phoenix print was a fear of failure. A fear of doing a bad job. A fear of imperfection.
Failure doesn’t have to be a bad word. It also doesn’t have to be the all-encompassing description.
I set out with a goal to sail to Maine. And at completing that goal, I failed.
After the fact, a good friend of mine reminded me that a logistical failure is not a moral failure. And that feels like such an important distinction.
Though this was a logistical failure, it was a success in so many other ways. I learned thing’s I never could have learned without trying, and I grew immeasurably. I have no regret for trying.
When I think of my fear of making ugly art, I know it’s a fear I want to outgrow. So my first effort at outgrowing that is this art challenge:
I created this 30 day art challenge in April of 2022, and at the time I did the whole thing with watercolor paints. This time, I’m giving myself no parameters. Some days I may make something elaborate, some days it might be a sketch with a pen on the back of an envelope.
If you’d like, I’d love for you to join me in whatever low pressure way feels good to you. Whether you do it along with me each day, or just pick a few of the prompts to doodle.
The point is not to make something good, it’s just to make something.
If you do join me, and you want to share, I’d love to see your art!
And if you have thoughts or experiences with failure that you want to share, I’d love to hear them. Failure is a human experience that we’ll all experience, so let’s talk about it!
Lots of love ❤️
Hannah
You seem to searching for something. Heck, we all are – but that which we search for now can change over time.
What might some of those things be? You need not be specific, but if they are identifiable, then apparent “failures” could be more instructive.