What Improv Comedy Taught Me About All Art

I started taking improv classes on a whim. What I found was a framework for creativity that transformed how I approach everything.

The Core Rules of Improv

Yes, And: Accept what's offered and build on it. Never deny reality.

Make Your Partner Look Good: The scene succeeds when everyone succeeds.

Don't Plan Ahead: Stay present. Respond to what IS, not what you wanted.

Be Specific: "A dog" is boring. "A three-legged beagle named Steve" is interesting.

Follow the Fear: The scariest choice is usually the most interesting one.

Applying "Yes, And" to Solo Art

When I paint, my internal critic constantly says "No, but."

"Yes, and" means accepting what's on the canvas and building from there:

Making Accidents Into Features

In improv, mistakes become canon. Someone forgets a character name? That's a plot point now.

In painting, a drip becomes texture. A wrong note becomes jazz. A "bad" chapter reveals something about the character you didn't plan.

The masters don't make fewer mistakes. They're better at incorporating them.

Specificity Matters Everywhere

In improv: "We're at a place" is death. "We're at a gas station in rural Texas at 3am" is life.

In writing: "She felt sad" is telling. "She counted the water stains on the ceiling at 4am" is showing.

In painting: "A landscape" is forgettable. "The view from my grandmother's kitchen window at dusk" is personal.

The Fear Principle

In improv, the scene that scares you is the one you need to do.

In art, the project that intimidates you is the one that will help you grow.

I was terrified to show my paintings. That fear told me I cared, and that caring was exactly why I needed to share them.

Play Is Work

Improv taught me that play isn't the opposite of serious work—it's the path to it. The best art I've made came from playful experimentation, not grim determination.

Take an improv class. Even if you never perform. The principles will make you better at everything creative you do.