The Artist of Your Dreams Is Not Perfect — Just Honest

“The artist of your dreams isn’t a more talented version of you.
It’s a more honest version of you.” – Dwayne Walker

For years I thought my flaws, my limitations, my lack of formal training were obstacles standing in my way as an artist. But lately, I’m starting to realize they might actually be my “artistic superpowers, the raw material of my own creative DNA” (Dwayne Walker, in this fantastic video on How to Become the Artist of Your Dreams)

It has taken me years to even call myself an artist. To allow myself that identity, despite not having a degree in music, despite gaps in discipline, despite not producing at the level I thought I “should.” But here’s the truth: the constant pull to create, even when no one is watching, even when it isn’t polished, even when it seems like no one cares… that is the proof that I am an artist.

That hunger, that need to express something, is what makes me one.

The Ego Misunderstandings

Of course, alongside this truth, there are also the ego’s persistent misunderstandings:

• The belief that only a formal education can make me “good.”

• The thought that without skill, I don’t deserve recognition.

• The fear of being seen in my vulnerability.

But when I look closer, I see it’s exactly the opposite. The amateur worries about being “good enough.” The artist simply follows curiosity. The artist creates to discover.

As long as I worry too much about whether my music measures up, I’m blocking the very thing that wants to come through me. It’s an ego trap. It’s my insecure self not wanting to be seen in its imperfections.

And yet, look at Kurt Cobain. By professional standards, his voice wasn’t “perfect.” But it carried an entire generation. Why? Because it was authentic. Because it was unmistakably him. (This is an example amongst many others from Dwayne Walker in How to Become the Artist of Your Dreams.)

The Compliment that Hurt

So why do I cling so tightly to perfection? Maybe because hiding behind skill feels safer than letting people see how much the music truly matters to me. If I keep things polished, no one can cut to the core and say: “You’re not good enough.”

One of the most painful compliments I ever received after performing was:

“It’s so heartwarming to see the unrefined artist giving it their all.”

It was meant with kindness. And yet it pierced me. Because all I heard was: You’re unrefined. You’re not a pro. It hit my deepest insecurity: being vulnerable, showing my raw self, and feeling judged for it.

But maybe I misunderstood.

What Art Brut Taught Me

Recently I learned about Art Brut, a movement of raw, outsider art. Self-taught, untrained, often dismissed by institutions. And it fascinated me.

What defines Art Brut is that the process matters more than the outcome.

The artist creates not for approval, but out of necessity.

It’s often autodidactic, born outside of tradition or schooling, where the soul of the artist speaks louder than any technical skill.

There’s no room for “good enough” in Art Brut, because the point isn’t recognition. The point is expression. The point is survival.

That’s the genius of it. The artist doesn’t get trapped in comparison or refinement. They simply develop the specific skills they need to give form to their inner vision. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And because of that, their art carries an unmistakable authenticity.

So when I think about that “unrefined” compliment, I realize: an Art Brut artist wouldn’t have flinched at it. They wouldn’t have even registered it as negative. Because “unrefined” doesn’t mean less: it means raw, real, unfiltered.

It means alive.

Reframing My Own Story

So maybe it’s time to reframe. Maybe instead of hearing “unrefined” as judgment, I can hear it as:

• Someone saw my authenticity.

• Someone noticed my artistic DNA shining through.

• Someone was moved enough to reflect it back to me.

That isn’t something to fear. That’s something to honor.

Because the artist of my dreams isn’t the one who perfects every detail, who polishes until nothing vulnerable is left. It’s the one who dares to show up honestly. To let the cracks show. To weaponize the very limitations I’ve spent so long trying to erase.

The artist of my dreams isn’t flawless.
She’s simply honest.

What This Could Mean for You

If you’ve ever felt like your flaws, limitations, or lack of formal training disqualify you as an artist or musician, maybe it’s worth looking again. What if those very limitations are part of your unique creative fingerprint… the raw edge that no one else can replicate?

You don’t need to polish yourself into invisibility.

Instead, you can let the cracks and the “unrefined” parts show. That’s often where the real connection happens; where people see your soul, not just your skill.

So maybe the question isn’t “How can I get rid of my flaws?” but rather: “How can I use them?”

Write the messy song. Share the unpolished sketch. Say the thing you’re afraid isn’t perfect yet.

Because the artist of your dreams isn’t the flawless one. It’s the honest one.