Artistic Challenges: Lessons in Persistence from Origami with My Son
Imagine this: You’re sitting at a table, surrounded by colorful origami paper, the scent of fresh paper mingling with a hint of excitement in the air. Your little one is watching you intently, eyes wide with anticipation as you begin to fold a piece of paper into a vibrant vehicle. Each crease and fold becomes a lesson not just in origami, but in patience and creativity.
That’s how I found myself one sunny afternoon, just six days into our new life in Washington State after moving from Munich, Germany. With my three-year-old son by my side, I wanted to soak up every moment before he started daycare. Our days had been filled with adventures—exploring local parks, visiting a nearby farm, and discovering the Children’s Museum in Seattle. But this day felt special as we dove into our new origami set titled Origami World, which I picked up from Blick Art Shop in Seattle. It featured all kinds of vehicles that could be cut out and folded, and I was excited to share this experience with my son.
I grew up in Japan, surrounded by the art of origami, but I never truly enjoyed it or considered myself good at it. Still, I figured it would be a fun way to bond with my son, especially since I hadn’t picked up my paintbrush in weeks. On my first attempt, I felt an overwhelming sense of love for him as he watched me work with curiosity. When I finally completed a piece, his joyful squeals filled the room—a sweet reminder that this process was about more than just paper. It taught him to handle delicate things gently and to appreciate the beauty in creation.
But the next day took an unexpected turn. My son’s excitement shifted from pure joy to an insatiable desire for more. “Mama, can you make the garbage truck?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. The problem? This particular origami had a higher difficulty rating. As I spent nearly an hour struggling with it, frustration bubbled within me. At one point, I exclaimed, “I can’t make it! There are some things in life you just can’t do.” But then, he looked at me earnestly and said, “Try, Mama. Just try.”
With his encouragement, I decided to push through. I thought, if one way wasn’t working, perhaps I could follow the instructions backward. To my surprise, that approach worked! After an hour and a half, I finally completed the origami garbage truck. I declared proudly, “It’s done!” only to have him casually respond, “Okay, Mama, let’s sleep,” pulling me towards the bed for a nap.
Afterward, I reflected on how this experience related to my artistic journey. I often abandon paintings quickly, avoiding the struggles that might lead to growth. While it feels easier to let go, I began to wonder if this mindset was beneficial for me as an artist. Studies suggest that persisting through artistic challenges can lead to significant personal growth. I learned that it’s perfectly okay to enjoy the pieces I create, even those that come easily. However, those tougher moments when I really have to work for it often yield the most meaningful art—those pieces that make me say, “Oh, that’s amazing.”
This experience also made me think about how my artist friend, Ali, perceives my paintings as feeling unfinished, while I see them as complete. Our different perspectives reflect our unique personalities and aesthetic preferences. This brings to mind the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), which categorizes individuals into 16 different personality types based on preferences in four dichotomies. As an INFP, I embody traits such as enthusiasm, creativity, and a desire for exploration in my work. I’m often drawn to new ideas and experiences, embracing the process rather than focusing solely on the outcome. In contrast, my friend’s more structured approach may lead her to view my work as incomplete.
As I ponder these ideas, I realize that finding balance in my creative process is key. I often work on multiple paintings at once, and that’s what brings me joy. If someone were to suggest that I should struggle more for each piece, I fear it might stifle my creativity and output.
So, this raises an interesting question: Does our personality type influence how we perceive art and what we consider finished as we navigate our artistic journeys? I believe it’s essential to recognize and appreciate these differences, both in ourselves and in others.
As you reflect on your own artistic process, I invite you to consider what kind of personality traits influence your creativity.
It does matter.
Because whatever you create comes from you. Ultimately…
Till next time,
bye bye!
