Making things

I miss making things with my hands.

It makes me smile to remember the little girl I used to be, who found so much joy and peace in creating things from nothing.

Shiny paper, fabric leftovers, or a picture in a magazine could open up a whole world of possibilities for her.

Old CDs were transformed into colourful mobiles, fabric leftovers into accessories, and the fear of the blank page didn’t exist.

I loved exploring what could be, just by using available resources, listening to what they wanted to become.

Driftwood and flat stones from the beach wanted to be carved and painted, and flowers pressed, dried and transformed into stationary in order to live forever.

I wonder if that isn't what creativity is all about. Seeing and feeling potential, birthing something new or different, moments of deep flow of making, then moments of stepping back, analysing, criticising, optimising and finalising, before retiring to rest.

Detaching from what has been, to make space for something new.

Accepting and embracing the space between, when boredom builds up and we turn inwards for inspiration.

The creative vacuum intensifies if we allow it, before the next cycle of creation breaks through and we return to solitude in order to build and make.

Back then, creating felt soft and light. For the little girl, the fear of judgement didn't exist.

She didn’t see herself as someone who needed to prove her creativity, nor adapt her very being, in order to be accepted.

When we fear to be seen in our human vulnerability, we hide our most personal expression.

When we fear to be perceived as crazy or delusional, we water down bold choices and abandon our unique point of view.

When we tie financial goals to our artistic journey, we silence our intuitive voice, prioritising products and productivity over experimentation and rest.

The good news is, it is not too late, and creativity can be recovered if we create an environment that allows us to feel free of all those expectations even for just an hour or two.

This can look like prioritising alone time to create, starting a brand new Instagram account that none of your friends and family follow, or joining an art class to try something new.

If you don’t feel ready to make something yet, you can study the lives of artists that inspire you and learn from them, or dig deep by journaling about the things that made you abandon your creative urges in the first place.

I find a lot of peace in the idea that creativity is a part of who I am, even when I don’t cultivate it on a daily basis. It is always there, ready to be picked up again, and all the experiences I had up until now are a potential source of inspiration for future artistic expression.