Hi, I'm Tash.

A few years ago, I thought becoming a great artist meant learning how to make perfect art. Instead, I spent years stuck in perfectionism. Every drawing felt like a test. Every mistake felt like failure. I was constantly waiting for the "right" materials, the "right" time, or the confidence to finally create something good enough. Then life forced me to slow down.

During a long period of burnout, anxiety, and eventually discovering I was autistic and ADHD, I realised I couldn't keep forcing myself through a life that never felt quite right. I had to find a different way of creating, one that my nervous system could actually sustain. Almost by accident, I started making what I called "bad art." Not because I believed it was actually bad, but because lowering my expectations gave me permission to begin. That tiny shift changed everything.

I stopped trying to control every mark on the page and started paying attention to what creating actually felt like. Somewhere along the way, art stopped being about proving myself and became a way of understanding myself. Ironically, the less I cared about making "good" art, the better my artwork became. More importantly, I discovered something much bigger than drawing.

I discovered that creativity isn't reserved for artists. It's part of being human.

Whether you're painting, writing, gardening, cooking, building, or solving problems, creativity is one of the ways we make sense of ourselves and connect with others. When we lose access to it, through stress, perfectionism, fear of judgement, or simply being too busy, we often lose a little connection with ourselves as well. I briefly studied art therapy because I wanted to understand why creativity could have such a profound impact on mental wellbeing. Although I realised the clinical pathway wasn't the right fit for me, it confirmed something I'd already experienced firsthand:

Creative expression doesn't have to be perfect to be meaningful. You don't need to call yourself an artist. You just need a safe place to begin. That belief became Bad Art Group.

Today, Bad Art Group exists to create welcoming, low-pressure creative spaces where people can reconnect with curiosity instead of perfectionism. Many people who attend have never thought of themselves as creative. Others are experienced artists who simply needed somewhere they could put the pressure down for a while. As someone who is autistic, I know how difficult it can be to find spaces where you genuinely feel accepted without needing to perform or fit a particular mold. For a long time, I struggled to find that place myself.

One moment has stayed with me.

At one of the lowest points in my life, I was quietly drawing outside an almost empty café when I was asked to leave because I couldn't afford to buy a coffee. It wasn't really about the café. It was the feeling that there wasn't a place in the world where someone could simply exist, create, and belong without having to spend money. I promised myself that if I ever got back on my feet, I would help create that place. That's why our community meetups are free. Not because they cost nothing to run - they absolutely do - but because I remember what it felt like to need a space like that and not be able to afford one. We live in a world that's becoming faster, noisier, and increasingly digital. I believe opportunities to slow down, create something with our hands, and connect with other people are becoming more valuable than ever.

Bad Art Group isn't about making better artists. It's about helping people discover that there was never anything wrong with being imperfect in the first place.

If this community has encouraged you, inspired you, or simply reminds you of the kind of world you'd like to live in, I'd be incredibly grateful for your support. Every donation helps keep our creative community accessible, welcoming, and available to the people who need it most.

Thank you for helping make room for more beautifully bad art.