Make Bad Art Course

Do you ever just want to break the rules and have fun?

Yeah—me, too.

If you're tired of following everyone else's rules all the time... Make Bad Art.

If you're tired of being micromanaged to fit into someone else's idea of how things should be done... Make Bad Art.

If you're sick of comparing yourself (and trying to live up) to all those "perfect" people on social media... Make Bad Art.

If you feel burned out or run down... Make Bad Art.

If you're feeling boxed in, stuck, and miss the joy of living outside the box... Make Bad Art.

When you were small, you made bad art all the time.

You could make up a story that could go on for five straight minutes with no concern about logic, the laws of nature, or anything but pure imagination. Airplanes flying underground, fairy princesses in castles built on clouds, birds that could swim...

You may have invented wild feats of architecture with Lego bricks, or drawn impossible creatures every day without a second thought.

You probably fought dragons and supervillains under pillow forts wearing capes made of bath towels.

Whatever popped into your head was fine, with no inner critic telling you it was wrong.

Your imagination was a force of nature, you were a bundle of energy...and nothing stopped you except bedtime and your parents' patience.

You were probably around 4 years old. And you were amazing.

That energy isn't limited to little kids, though. Do you remember watching Robin Williams let loose at the movies, or in his stand-up routines?

It can be exhausting trying to keep track of all the things you're supposed to be as an adult. Seems to me it’s so much easier just to be yourself.

I find the more I stay true to who I am, the better things work out (which is why I'm actually breaking the rules as I write this page 😉).

If that idea has you breathing a sigh of relief, you’re in the right place.

If that sigh of relief is immediately followed by, “But, wait! I can’t do that! I’d get in trouble/disappoint someone/never be good enough/have no idea how to do that,” or something similar, believe me, I get it.

I’ve heard all those voices in my head, too. And I’ll let you in on a secret:

Those voices are not you.

Those voices were installed in your head by some folks who were almost certainly well-meaning—your parents, grandparents, teachers, bosses… but they’re not you.

They’re also not right.

I mean, sure, there are some rules that are really important. I’m pretty fond of traffic rules, myself.

But a lot of the time, we follow rules that are outdated, arbitrary, or just plain don’t make any sense.

Woman looking in broken mirror with someone else's reflection

It’s fine to aim for excellence, but when you get too attached to the outcome, you can spend hours fixated on an ideal that doesn’t exist, or that doesn’t really matter.

That’s perfectionism, and it's why you feel untalented, not good enough, and exhausted, and wonder where the heck all your time went.

Perfectionism is sometimes held up as a virtue, but it’s actually an ugly trap that keeps you caught in ways you often don’t see, and it can not only make you miserable and waste your time, but burn you out, fuel self-judgment, and destroy your relationships with others.

In the meantime, you look at kids (or at Robin Williams) and you’re mystified. You'd love to get that energy back. But how? How do they do that?

They do it because they’re okay with making bad art. They’re not worried about what other folks say.

The 4-year-old's inner critic hasn’t been installed yet. Robin Williams learned not to listen to his.

Imagine being able to drop those voices telling you you're not good enough, that your work isn't perfect enough, and that you shouldn't even try something new because you won't be able to do it well enough.

Imagine creating just for the fun of it, without worrying about the outcome, and enjoying the process no matter what the product is like.

It may seem impossible, but you can de-fang your inner critic. It just takes time and practice. You might not get all the way to Robin Williams’s level, but you can get a whole lot closer than you are right now.

Woman smiling while sitting on a skateboard

Let me tell you about a student I'll call Victoria. Victoria came to Make Bad Art because she wanted to get rid of her perfectionism. She also didn’t believe she was creative even though she loved doing improv. She found herself so focused on the rules—on being the good girl—that she was worried about everything she did or said. If you’ve ever done improv, you know that’s the fastest, easiest way to take all the joy out of it—and to question your own creative capabilities.

By our last session, Victoria had completely re-evaluated her relationship with rules. She was able to look at them objectively, decide whether they were really necessary, and give herself permission to ignore them and do her own thing if they were not.

As a result, Victoria has been having more fun than she’s had in years. She’s laughing more, being drawn into younger social circles (because her energy has come alive), and creating bad art on a regular basis, just for the sheer joy of it.

While her story is inspiring, it’s not remarkable. My Make Bad Art students report that they feel more loose and open in every aspect of their lives. They’re not as hobbled by criticism, so they’re much more open to new ideas. It’s much easier for them to relax, be spontaneous, and roll with whatever life throws at them—and have more fun with it, too, because they operate from a greater spirit of play and curiosity. As a result, their relationships improve, because they’re less judgmental, both of themselves and others.

There's also time on each call to intentionally make bad art. Why? You have to make bad art before you can make good art. All the gold is in the things you’re afraid to make—the things you think won’t be good enough, that you’re not allowed to make, shouldn’t make, or are half-baked.

The more bad art you make, the more good art will sneak out in the process, along with your childlike sense of fun and wonder.

On the calls and online, you will also take time to observe the anti-perfectionism process, being gentle with yourself as you gain awareness of how this process works in general and for yourself.

One of the core principles of Make Bad Art is this:

You do not have to make bad art perfectly. You do not even have to use the tools perfectly (if you did, you’d be exhibiting perfectionism)! You are a flawed human being making flawed art because that’s what it is to be human, and THAT IS OKAY.

Heck, you don't even have to be an artist. Here's the kind of art I used to draw for my students when I was teaching:

If you can draw stick figures, or write bad poetry, you'll do just fine in Make Bad Art. Better than fine, even.

And don’t worry: there is literally no way to fail at making bad art (except not to do it at all). You can even do it with your kids or grandkids.

And you can’t do it wrong! Just like when you were a kid. As long as you’re willing to try, to see what you can come up with, you can’t screw it up.

(Did you watch my video at the top of the page? If not, you should. It’s short. I promise it’s worth it.)

"Being a creative person, sometimes you do feel like you live in your own world and that nobody else understands the creative process. I really enjoyed meeting other creative people in Make Bad Art and hearing them talk about their creative lives.

"The course also gave me different ideas on how to make time to be creative, and how to respect my creativity—all those things that are usually not encouraged.

"I see now that my art is definitely worth the time, and that’s powerful. The other day, I had this big project, so I got started by making several small steps. Thanks to Make Bad Art, I feel like I have a better idea of how I want this project to go by doing the small steps and using the other tools from the course.

"Nancy taught me to incorporate those tools, and encouraged me to go ahead and be creative. Because when I'm creative, I'm in a happy space and that helps me deal with everything else.

"I would tell others who are considering Make Bad Art to be open to the possibilities. Don't limit yourself; just show up and be willing to participate. There aren’t any big, hard things to do in this class—they’re smaller activities, and there's a lot of encouragement from other people in the group."

— Emily, founding participant in Make Bad Art

and member of the Follow Your Curiosity community

Hi, I'm Nancy Norbeck, a Master Certified Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coach, host of the Follow Your Curiosity podcast, and a fellow traveler on the road to recovery from perfectionism.

I didn't always know I was a perfectionist. When I was in creativity coach training, my training mentor asked me in one of our sessions if I was a perfectionist, and I confidently told her no.

I was sure, because I, like many creative people, was not the kind of person who has to have everything in its place all the time.

(I taught with a guy who was like that once, and I was always afraid I’d leave his stapler misaligned on his desk.)

She asked again if I was sure—if I ever got stuck because I didn’t think I had the right materials or tools. Nope, not me! A keyboard or pen and paper was all I needed.

She asked one more time: “Do you ever just not start projects because you’re sure you’ll never be able to do them well enough?”

I stopped breathing. That was me.

While I was actively creative, there were plenty of things I’d wanted to do that I’d cut myself off from, often not even fully consciously, because I knew I’d never be good enough at them to be worth the effort. So I never even tried. I never gave myself the chance to find out if I could have been good at them at all. I just decided I was already a failure instead. That’s a terrible thing to do to yourself.

I've also worked as a writing teacher at the secondary and post-secondary levels, and as a copy editor and proofreader.

I know what it's like to have a job that requires an exacting level of perfection, even when I personally don't care whether every quotation mark is curly or not, and to catch hell if I missed one of them—and to have to pretend to be someone I'm not every day because the management is drenched in toxic positivity and only wants smiley, happy people in their office.

When I got the idea for my podcast, Follow Your Curiosity, I thought it would be interesting to hear people’s creative stories and get them in front of a wider audience. I wasn’t sure anyone would listen to it, but I was curious enough to give it a whirl for my own interest.

I didn’t expect my podcast to be the creative outlet that saved me. I didn’t know it would remind me of who I was and who I could be. But it became a source of pride, joy, and meaning that nobody could take from me—an absolute lifeline when I needed it the most.

That’s why I created Make Bad Art: to help others trapped in the cycle of perfectionism and pretense to rediscover and reclaim their own creativity—that part of themselves that no one can take away—so they can come back to life again.

I especially wanted to create a place where folks could do this work in community, because trying to counter perfectionism can be really tough in a world that keeps telling you all your troubles will be over if you're just perfect enough—if you finally attain that pinnacle of achievement you see on TV and Instagram. It’s so much easier to make these changes when you know you’re not alone.

‣ Judgment of yourself (and others)

‣ Criticism of yourself (and others)

‣ That perpetually tight feeling in your gut (which can be related to things like high blood pressure, though I’m NOT claiming to cure any medical ailments here!)

‣ An overabundance of seriousness and harshness in your life

‣ An overworked negativity bias

‣ Too much time doomscrolling and binge watching

‣ Difficulty generating new ideas, and the ones you do have are never good enough

‣ Obsession with/attachment to the outcome of a project/situation

‣ Fear of the results of imperfection

‣ Fear that you are not good enough, and will never be good enough

‣ Fear of what other people think

Arm in striped sleeve tangled up in a knot

Little girl in sunglasses under falling cherry blossoms

‣ Self-kindness (and kindness toward others)

‣ Self-compassion (and kindness toward others)

‣ Feeling more comfortable and lighter in your own skin

‣ Emotional lightness, playfulness, energy, and a more ready sense of humor

‣ A more general sense of positivity and confidence

‣ More time engaging in your creativity and play

‣ More new ideas, and they’re more interesting to you

‣ Fascination with and trust in the process and openness to possibility rather than a fixed outcome

‣ Appreciation for the uniqueness of imperfection over cookie-cutter perfection

‣ Security in yourself, your worth, and the knowledge that you are—and always have been—good enough

‣ Your own self-validation outweighing anyone else’s disapproval

“Make Bad Art was such an amazing experience that changed how I approach play as a grown up. I am a lot more willing to make mistakes and let that be a part of the process. Before, I would let it stop me from moving forward in the process.

"As a practitioner of Breathwork and Compassion Key, I've been in the industry of life coaching, online coaching, self improvement and human transformation for three decades. Nancy has an amazing ability to create spaces of exploration in the area of play that are fresh, fun, and unique to what adults grapple with when it comes to discovering play time—and all of the guilt, shame, and dismissal we can sometimes, unknowingly, carry when it comes to that subject.

"I mean, as one who didn't play much as a youngster, the science behind perfectionism was a game changer! I had no idea of all of the scientific research and discovery in this area of self transformation and personal growth for adults and how perfectionism can have negative impacts on achieving success in life.

"Thank you, Nancy, for doing your sacred work and being a relentless stand for what's possible in the realm of play and fun at any age!

"I just used the tiny steps process with my 19-year-old nephew this morning because I took your Make Bad Art course. I was able to recognize a familiar procrastination behavior pattern that showed up in his action, or non-action, and share with him an easier way to play with something he's been putting off, to help him get started without making him bad, wrong, or broken.

"I love that I have an arsenal of ways to play that are inspiring, motivating and easy to do! "Permission to play and making bad art, ACTIVATED!”

—Angela R. Smith, Founder of Root Cause Breathwork,

Certified Compassion Key Practitioner and Breathwork Practitioner

Think about it:

What's the cost of staying stuck in the cycle of perfectionism, missing out on the joy and fulfillment of creative expression and play?

What's the value of reclaiming your time, energy, and confidence to pursue your passions without fear of judgment?

What's it worth to finally silence that inner critic and embrace your authentic creative self—and improve your relationships with yourself and others at the same time?

As a fellow recovering perfectionist, I know firsthand the traps perfectionism can lead us into and the pain it can cause. As a Master Certified Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coach, I’m also armed with the tools and personal experience to break that cycle and lead you back to fun, play, wonder, and self-acceptance.

The first ten people to sign up will also receive a copy of my Creative Tune-Up Kit and a 30-minute 1:1 coaching session with me.

With Make Bad Art, you'll receive:

‣Six two-hour live group coaching sessions.

‣Practical tools and exercises based on the 9 Ps of Anti-Perfectionism.

‣Access to a supportive community of fellow recovering perfectionists.

‣Recordings and transcripts of all sessions.

‣Weekly Creative Connection co-working calls for dedicated creative time.

In just six weeks, you'll loosen the grip of perfectionism and transform your relationship with creativity—and yourself—so you can relax, create more freely, judge yourself (and others!) less, and enjoy your life more.

Ready to ditch perfectionism and say hello to freedom, inspiration, kindness, and play?

Join the waitlist for Make Bad Art below. You'll also receive the 6 Creative Beliefs that Are Screwing You Up for free as a thank-you gift.

Join the Make Bad Art waitlist here

Do you ever just want to break the rules and have fun?

Yeah—me, too.

But you grew up...

What happens in Make Bad Art?

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