All - I had a wonderful week making things for others. Despite being ill for part of it, the creativity reminded me why making is such an essential part of happiness - for those we make things, and for ourselves. So whatever you do, please make time to make. It’s worth it. ~JRC
Make time to make
A rainbow of rewards awaits you
First published as a paid-subscribers story on August 2nd, 2021
Creating involves a complex series of events from origination to execution. But that’s the easy part. Too often, getting started is the real challenge. It can take a lot of prohibitively expensive equipment and materials, not to mention time, to make the way we want. But creating need not be so complicated. All you have to do is take whatever you have - and make some time - to make. If you do, you’ll be happier, I can [almost] guarantee it.
Entry-level creativity is cheap. Some crayons and paper help, but these aren't required. A child will draw no matter what, drafting lines with a finger in the sand (or carpet, as I often did). And music is readily made with household items or simply one's voice.
But as we grow and our goals expand, we start coming up with excuses not to make. For one, we start using increasingly elaborate things to create as we age. Crayons give way to paints; shiny brass instruments replace pots and pans. Materials like wood, metal, and plastic require heavy, exacting tools, unlike the paper crafts that preceded them. As we mature, then, making takes on a whole new experience. And that experience comes at a price, which can be a barrier to creating - if we let it.
It can be hard to break into some creative endeavors, if only for this cost barrier. I wanted to paint landscapes like a pro when I was a kid, but oil paints and those canvasses were too expensive (not to mention my lack of training and ability). Thankfully, I made do with what I had and enjoyed the process, even if the results didn't compare.
Now, as a "professional creative," I still find the cost barrier daunting at times. I am jonesing to get into metal machining, for example, but there's no way I can outfit my shop right now. Sure, there are maker spaces I could join that have the tools, but that's not my style (and there's this unrelenting pandemic we have to contend with still).
Time can also limit us. With so many distractions and obligations, it's easy to go days or weeks without making things. The last couple of weeks have been so busy that I was tempted not to make at all.
In all honesty, it's been a pretty difficult summer and I haven't started any larger builds since June. If I let it, these perplexities could grind my making to a halt. I am not immune to such barriers, it would seem. But at least I am aware of them.
Yes, it would be pretty foolish, as a maker, to not make. So I forged some time to build a few things even this last week - a sandpaper holder and a couple of drawer trays for my drill sets. I also made a mounting bracket for my grinder. These weren't elaborate builds, nor were they art by any stretch. But they felt good to do. And I was able to do them with what I had.
For me, it wasn't a matter of wanting to make; I had to. And lucky for me, I forced myself to do something good for, well, myself.
As I've written about before, making things is as human as it gets. We, as a species, create. And when we make, we connect with ourselves and our humanity. Best of all, creating helps us recover, recenter, and refocus when times get hard.
But we have to make ourselves make to reap the reward.
Making, then, is not about the tools or the medium. Nor is it all that important what we make. The most vital part of making is that we do it. It's us, engaged in creativity, from start to finish, that matters.
The most important part of making is us. It’s you. So go out there and make something. You’ll feel better, I just know it.
Until next time.
JRC