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The David Choe Experience 

This section is all about overcoming perfectionism. For me, perfectionism was one of those silent killers that crept into everything I did. I was overthinking every post, every move, every piece I made. I was trying to curate this perfect version of myself as an artist, but in the process, I wasn’t really showing anything real. I was exploring, yes, but I was also holding back because I didn’t want to look silly, or be misunderstood, or have people talk down on what I was doing.

Social media made it worse. It’s so easy to overthink what you post, because these days, it feels like anything you say or do online, someone will find an issue with it. You could post something harmless, something genuine, and someone will still have something to say. That fear of being picked apart stopped me from sharing.

But the truth is, regardless of what you do, people will always have opinions. You could be the kindest person alive and someone will still dislike you. You could be the most attractive man or woman in the world, and someone will still find a reason to talk down on you. You could be doing something incredible, helping people, changing lives, and still, someone somewhere won’t like you. That’s just life. Once I accepted that, it made things a lot lighter... because being honest we all are like this sometimes.

Around that time, I came across a video about a guy who had been in a near-fatal motorcycle accident. He was lucky to be alive. He said that since the accident, his whole outlook changed. His mindset became: “I should have been dead yesterday, so why wouldn’t I take this opportunity? Why wouldn’t I talk to this girl I’m attracted to? Why wouldn’t I apply for that job or go to that place?”

He started living like he had nothing to lose. He even told this story about how he lied his way into a graphic design job. He had no real experience, but he thought, “What have I got to lose?” He copied someone else’s portfolio, learned the basics from YouTube, went in, and somehow got hired. The things he didn’t know, he learned on the job. That risk, that attitude, that complete freedom from fear, pushed him into the life he wanted. He later started travelling the world, building a life for himself simply because he stopped caring about what could go wrong.

That mindset stuck with me. It wasn’t about lying or doing things dishonestly (more just the mindset guys...); it was about letting go of fear.

At that time, money was tight, and I didn’t have much canvas left. I was creatively drained. I brought my art supplies downstairs one night and told myself, “I’m going to paint something. Anything.” I had these small canvases, and I hated them. I absolutely hated working on small canvases. It just felt like another restriction. I looked at them and thought, “I can’t paint on this. This is so bad. I hate what I’m making.”

I had always known of David Choe. I knew who he was, his story, his art, his attitude, but for some reason that night, his videos kept popping up for me. Maybe it was timing, maybe it was divine, but I just decided, “You know what, let me actually watch what this guy’s on about.” I was frustrated, bored with what I was making, and thought, “What do I have to lose?”

For anyone who doesn’t know him, David Choe is a Korean-American artist who made a name for himself in the 2000s with his wild, spontaneous, unapologetic paintings. He didn’t care about the rules. He painted with pure freedom, raw emotion, and energy. Later in life, he had a powerful encounter with Christ after being imprisoned in Japan. Even while he was there, he painted using coffee on tissue paper. That story alone shows how limitations really don’t exist unless you let them.

And then there’s the story that blew my mind. When Facebook was still new, he painted murals for their offices. Instead of taking cash, he asked to be paid in stocks. Those stocks later made him millions. That’s someone who truly trusted their gut and their art.

So, I started watching his videos, and it was like something in me woke up. I’d stay up until 3 a.m., just watching him paint and talk. He’d start with nothing, create something beautiful, then paint over it completely. He’d say things like, “You don’t like this? You don’t like using marker? You don’t like watercolour? What do you mean you don’t like it?” He’d break every limiting belief in real time. He’d remind you that the idea of “I can’t paint on this,” or “I can’t make something good with that,” is all in your head. You really can. You actually can, and you can make it great.

That night, I just kept looping his videos while I worked. I started applying that same mentality: stop thinking, stop judging, just paint. I kept going from one canvas to the next, pushing through the frustration. I made several small pieces that night and kept posting every single day. They weren’t big or grand like my usual work, but they were real.

At first, it felt uncomfortable. I worried people would think I’d fallen off or that my work was losing its scale or value. But I didn’t stop. I even wrote in my Instagram bio that my works were for sale, which was something I’d always thought was too “sleazy” or "uncool" to say. But it was honest. I wanted to sell my art. I wanted to make a living doing what I loved.

And funny enough, that was the moment everything started to move. People reached out. They engaged. They connected with what I was making. Those small pieces opened up everything that came after. They carried energy, freedom, and joy.

The David Choe experience taught me that perfectionism is just fear dressed up as control. It’s that voice that says, “Wait until it’s perfect, then share it.” But perfection doesn’t exist. The real growth comes through the mess, through the ugly stages, through showing up when it’s not perfect.

What I learned through that season was that you can’t keep waiting for permission, not from other people, not from the world, and not even from yourself. The only way out is through. Show up. Do the work. Keep creating. The rest will follow.