Ah, the creative process. That magical, mysterious journey where you—yes, you, the brilliant artiste—conjure masterpieces from thin air, driven by pure inspiration and divine talent. Or, you know, just fumble around in the dark, hoping no one notices that you have absolutely no idea what the hell you’re doing.
Welcome to the real world of creativity, folks. In today’s guide, we’re diving headfirst into the fine art of pretending you know what you’re doing—because let’s be honest, that’s 90% of the creative process anyway. Grab your brushes, your sketchbooks, or whatever tools of the trade you’ve convinced yourself you need, and let’s get started on the grand art of creative bullshittery.
Step 1: Fake It ‘Til You Make It (But Mostly Just Fake It)
The first rule of creative bullshittery is simple: act like you’ve got your shit together, even when you’re a hot mess inside. Confidence is key. You could be painting stick figures or crafting a masterpiece of modern art—no one’s gonna know the difference if you sell it with enough conviction.
Here’s the trick: when someone asks you about your “process,” just throw out a bunch of buzzwords. “Oh, I’m really exploring the juxtaposition of light and shadow to convey the ephemeral nature of existence.” Translation: “I have no clue what I’m doing, so I’m just winging it and hoping it looks deep.”
Step 2: Embrace the Creative Chaos
Creativity is messy. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either a liar or hasn’t picked up a paintbrush since kindergarten. The trick here is to own the mess. Smudge some paint on your face, scatter your tools around like you’re in the middle of a breakthrough (even if that “breakthrough” is just you breaking down), and let the chaos become part of your brand.
When people see your cluttered workspace, they’ll assume you’re so absorbed in your genius that you don’t have time for trivial things like organization. Little do they know, you’re just trying to find that one damn pencil you lost two days ago.
Step 3: Talk About “Inspiration” Like It’s Your Best Friend
Everyone loves to hear about your “inspiration.” They want to believe that your creativity is fueled by deep, meaningful experiences and not, you know, the latest Netflix binge. So, give the people what they want. Wax poetic about how the changing seasons, your cat’s existential crisis, or that weird dream you had last night have all influenced your work.
Pro tip: throw in some obscure references. Mention a 16th-century poet or a lesser-known Dadaist artist. The more niche, the better. If you don’t know any, make one up—no one’s going to check.
Step 4: When in Doubt, Go Abstract
Here’s the beauty of abstract art: no one really knows what it’s supposed to be. You can throw some colors on a canvas, scribble a few lines, and call it a day. When someone questions your work, just give them a deep, meaningful stare and say, “It’s open to interpretation.” That’s art-speak for “I have no idea what this is, but I’m not going to admit it.”
Step 5: Own Your Mistakes (and Call Them Happy Accidents)
Screwed up a piece? No worries! In the world of creative bullshittery, there are no mistakes—only “happy accidents.” Spilled coffee on your sketch? It’s now an avant-garde commentary on the transience of life. Can’t get that sculpture to look right? It’s an exploration of imperfection in a world obsessed with symmetry.
Remember, confidence is everything. If you say it’s intentional, people will believe you. Probably.
Final Thoughts: Creativity is Bullshit—But So Is Everything Else
At the end of the day, the truth is that most people are just as lost as you are. The difference is that some are better at pretending. So, the next time you find yourself knee-deep in a creative crisis, remember this: you’re not alone, and there’s no shame in faking it ‘til you make it. After all, half the fun of art is making everyone else think you’ve got it all figured out.
Stay snarky,
~ Rita 🖤