Turning Setbacks into Sketches of Truer Vision
Turn your setbacks into sketches; every revision brings the portrait closer to truth. — Vincent van Gogh
From Setback to Sketch
The aphorism reframes failure as a preliminary drawing—useful, provisional, and alive with possibility. A sketch is not a verdict; it is a question that invites the next line. In this spirit, setbacks stop being indictments and become information, suggesting where to darken a contour, lighten a tone, or change the vantage point. By thinking this way, disappointment becomes a studio tool rather than a final judgment. This perspective prepares us to see revision not as erasure, but as continuity—each attempt carrying forward what was learned into the next draft.
Van Gogh’s Iterative Practice
Van Gogh’s working life models this ethos in concrete ways. His letters to Theo often describe sustained series of studies before a finished canvas, most notably around The Potato Eaters (1885), where he painted heads of peasants again and again to grasp their character. He treated repetition as apprenticeship, turning imperfect trials into stepping-stones. That method did not merely increase output; it shaped vision, allowing insight to accumulate line by line. This habit of serial work set the stage for his later breakthroughs, demonstrating how persistence transforms missteps into momentum.
Repetitions, Series, and Refinement
From Arles onward, he pursued entire families of images—Sunflowers, the sower, and the Bedroom—revisiting themes to refine structure and feeling. The Bedroom exists in three versions (1888–1889), each a recalibration of color and balance to better evoke rest. Likewise, multiple Sunflowers canvases let him test harmony and intensity until the bouquet felt luminous rather than merely bright. In moving from one version to the next, he treated the prior canvas as a sketch for the next truth. This serial rhythm illustrates the quote’s promise: revision is not retreat, but approach.
Visible Layers, Hidden Revisions
Technical studies make this process tangible. X-ray and infrared analyses have revealed underpaintings and reworkings beneath several canvases, including a concealed portrait beneath Patch of Grass (1887), documented by the Van Gogh Museum’s research efforts. These buried images are not failures so much as foundations—earlier ideas recycled into stronger compositions. Just as a drawing’s ghost lines guide the final contour, these palimpsests show how artists build truth in layers. Thus the painter’s studio becomes a laboratory, where each alteration preserves a trace that quietly informs the surface we see.
Truth as Emotional Fidelity
For van Gogh, truth was not photographic accuracy but felt equivalence. In his letters from Arles (1888), he describes using color “more arbitrarily” to express the intensity of experience—an approach that privileges emotional fidelity over literal depiction. Revision, then, is the patient calibration of resonance: altering hue, contour, and rhythm until the picture aligns with what one knows inwardly. This understanding bridges technique and vision, turning technical corrections into ethical ones—the duty to depict not just what is there, but what is true.
Beyond Art: Iteration as a Universal Method
This artistic logic echoes across fields. The scientific method advances through conjecture and refutation; prototypes in design thinking evolve via test-and-learn cycles; and the build–measure–learn loop popularized by The Lean Startup (Eric Ries, 2011) treats each release as a sketch of a better product. Psychology underscores the same pattern: a growth mindset (Carol Dweck, Mindset, 2006) reframes setbacks as signals for strategy change. Across disciplines, revision shifts identity from perfection-seeker to learner, so progress becomes cumulative rather than brittle.
Practicing Resilient Revision
To enact this mindset, structure your workflow like a sketchbook. Time-box drafts so you ship versions rather than wait for certainty; keep a revision log noting what changed and why; and solicit critiques early, when course corrections are cheap. Step back regularly—literally, with a few meters of distance, and figuratively, with a cooling-off period—to see what the work wants. Above all, treat each attempt as a conversation with the next. In doing so, you will find that setbacks redraw themselves as guides, and each revision brings the portrait closer to truth.