Beyond the Safety of the Shore

Why do you keep painting the same shoreline every single time? Are you actually creating, or are you just hiding in what you know?

I spent three winters in a small studio near Thunder Bay just repeating what I knew would sell at the local holiday markets. It was safe, it paid the bills, and it was entirely soul-crushing. My brain had gone on autopilot, and my creativity felt like it was suffering from a permanent case of freezer burn. One Tuesday, I ran out of the specific blue I used for every standard lake scene. Instead of driving to the store, I grabbed a handful of dirt and some leftover cold brew and started scrubbing it into the canvas. It looked like a disaster at first, but for the first time in months, I actually felt my pulse in my fingertips.

Taking an artistic risk isn't about being reckless or trying to be the next big trend on a screen. It’s about choosing to be uncomfortable for the sake of your own evolution. In Northwestern Ontario, we often feel this silent pressure to stick to regional aesthetics—think pines, lakes, and rocks—because our communities are tight-knit and we don't want to be the weird artist at the local diner. But staying safe is a slow death for your practice. When you step outside your technical comfort zone, you’re practicing psychological flexibility. You are literally training your brain to handle uncertainty, which is a massive win for your mental health.

You can start small with a trash session. Give yourself twenty minutes to make something intentionally hideous or wrong. Use the wrong brushes, the wrong colors, or a medium you’ve never touched. This is a basic Acceptance and Commitment Therapy technique: you’re making room for the failure and realizing it has no power over you. Once you see that the world doesn’t end when you make a bad piece of art, you start to take bigger, more authentic swings in your professional life. You realize the fear was just a noise, not a barrier.

Our isolation in the North is actually a massive advantage for exploration. Since we aren't constantly being scrutinized by a massive urban industry, we have the literal and mental space to be strange. We don't need to fit into a gallery mold designed in a city five hundred kilometers away. Embracing the grit, the weirdness, and the specific texture of rural life without a pretty filter is how we build a resilient arts sector. It’s about showing people something honest instead of something safe. This builds a collective culture where being different is a badge of honor rather than a risk to your reputation.

Real growth happens in the moments where you aren't sure if what you're doing is good. That uncertainty is just your brain expanding its map. Be kind to yourself when the risk doesn't land perfectly. The value isn't in the final product, but in the fact that you were brave enough to try something that didn't have a guaranteed outcome. Stay grounded, keep your hands messy, and remember that you're more than your output.

Northwestern Ontario Arts, Culture and Recreation

Rooted in Melgund Township, Northwestern Ontario we're exploring arts, culture, and recreation programming that brings our communitiess together. From creative workshops and local exhibitions to youth activities and cultural events, we support rural artists, strengthen community connection, and celebrate the creative spirit of Northwestern Ontario.

Through community-based arts initiatives, recreation programming, and cultural gatherings, Melgund Recreation, Arts and Culture fosters creative expression, collaboration, and long-term sustainability in the northern arts sector. Our work connects residents, empowers youth, and builds pride in local talent across rural Northwestern Ontario.

Learn more about our programs, events, and opportunities at Melgund Recreation, Arts and Culture.