Coloring inside the lines (or not)

Let’s talk about something that’s been bothering me since I realized crayons came with “instructions.” Ever notice how, from kindergarten, we’re taught to color inside the lines, raise our hands before speaking, and say “please” even when asking for something like broccoli? It’s all part of a grand conspiracy - yes, I said conspiracy!  - to turn us into responsible, rule-abiding adults. But somewhere between the ABCs and filing taxes, one question looms large: are we just mastering the past, or are we preparing to make a future worth living in?
And if you’re an artist, that question comes with bonus existential dread.
Conformity: The Artist’s Frenemy
Education is great—don’t get me wrong. (Stay in school, kids!) It teaches us what humans have figured out so far: gravity is a thing, pyramids are pointy, and Vincent van Gogh really needed a hug. But here’s the kicker: the same system that teaches us about innovation often penalizes us for trying to innovate ourselves. “No, Timmy, the sky is not purple! That’s incorrect.” Poor Timmy—he could’ve been the next Kandinsky.
The problem is conformity gets a bad rap. It’s like kale: nobody likes it, but we all admit it’s necessary (or is it?) Rules provide structure; they keep society from descending into a Mad Max sequel. Even artists, those supposed renegades, rely on frameworks. Beethoven didn’t reinvent music without knowing the rules of harmony first. (Also, fun fact: he probably would’ve been great at flipping Monopoly tables during family game night.)
But let’s be honest—conformity’s BFF is boredom.
Innovation: The Ultimate Rule Breaker
Enter innovation, stage left, wearing mismatched socks and a hat made of recycled yogurt lids. Innovation doesn’t care about your rules. It’s the kid in the back of the classroom drawing dinosaurs on their math homework. Artists, more than anyone, live in that space. We stare at the rules, squint hard, and ask, “What if?”
What if a urinal is art? (Thanks, Duchamp.)
What if soup cans are iconic? (Hi, Warhol.)
What if I just paint a single black square and call it revolutionary? (Malevich waves smugly from 1915.)
Art thrives in that tension between conformity and innovation. If conformity is the steady drumbeat, innovation is the wild saxophone solo that makes everyone wonder if the musician has gone rogue—or found genius.
Free Will vs. Rules Set in Stone
Ah, free will. The thing every artist swears they have—until the rent is due. The struggle between freedom and restriction is eternal. Think of it like a dance-off between two equally awkward but determined contestants. On one side, you’ve got free will, flailing and improvising wildly, shouting, “I do what I want!” On the other, rules, stoic and unyielding, respond with, “But if you don’t follow me, it’s chaos.”
Here’s the twist: they’re both right.
Rules can feel suffocating, but they give you something to push against. Without gravity, astronauts don’t float in style—they just float. The same is true for artists. Rules provide a framework; free will provides the fire to set that framework ablaze. It’s a love-hate relationship, like peanut butter and jelly. (Or peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, for you weirdos out there.)
The Artist as a Time Traveler
So, where does this leave us artists? Are we historians, chronicling the past? Are we inventors, imagining the future? Or are we just time travelers who forgot to read the manual?
Artists, whether we like it or not, are the bridge between what was and what could be. We take the lessons of the past, slap a fresh coat of paint on them, and shove them into the future, shouting, “Here, deal with this!” We are both conformists and rebels, rule-followers and trailblazers.
Think about it: Michelangelo didn’t paint the Sistine Chapel because he was free—he was literally told to do it. Yet he snuck in some rebellious anatomy and eyebrow-raising poses. It’s the ultimate artist move: obey the rules just enough to stay employed, but break them in ways that make people talk about you for centuries.
Finding the Funny in the Struggle
Now, let’s inject some humor into this oh-so-heavy topic. Because if there’s one thing artists and kindergarteners have in common, it’s the ability to laugh at authority.
Remember how your teacher used to say, “You can be anything when you grow up”? That’s a trap. They want you to aim for astronaut, not surrealist painter. But here’s the thing: surrealist painters have more fun. We spend our days putting clocks on tree branches and calling it deep. Astronauts? They’re stuck following the rules of physics. Boring.
Or take the phrase, “Think outside the box.” Why is there even a box in the first place? Who put it there? And why is everyone obsessed with escaping it instead of decorating it with glitter and googly eyes?
Closing Thoughts
In the end, the artist’s role isn’t to destroy rules or blindly follow them. It’s to question them, bend them, and occasionally break them—preferably in a way that makes people laugh, cry, or at least say, “Huh, interesting.”
So, the next time someone tells you to color inside the lines, grab a bigger piece of paper. Because rules are just suggestions, and suggestions are just opportunities for creativity to run amok. And who knows? Maybe that purple sky Timmy was painting back in kindergarten wasn’t “wrong” after all. Maybe it was just the future calling.