I could be real analytical. I could give you a few stats on why creativity is important for brain development, tips on increasing your earnings by harnessing your creative potential, and perhaps throw in a mental health anecdote or two, just to keep it relatable. It would be an effective approach, I think, but that seems somehow incongruous with the title of this piece, does it not?
Instead, let me tell you a little about my own stumbling into creativity… and maybe something in the honest anecdote will cause you to say ‘really? no way, me too!’ And if not, well I apologise in advance for any wasted time and promise to pay for your coffee (or whiskey?) should we ever meet.
I remember the seemingly clear social distinction between those that create and those that just can’t. And attached to this misconstrued method of distinguishing, I formed a hierarchy with the creators right at the top. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered I fell squarely into the lowest strata — those I deemed the ‘should not create.’ And I spent the better half of my life living under the low expectations, yet somewhat heavy weight, of that title. (Dramatic, I know, but a story about creativity lends itself quite nicely to a little drama).
Fast forward a few years, and I’d somehow found myself having inadvertently climbed the hierarchy, and now I consider myself somewhat creative. Don’t get me wrong, I am under no illusions of grandeur here and am not claiming to be the next Nelson Makamo. But I think that’s the whole point. You know that saying, ‘It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey’? Well ordinarily, I’d dig my heels in and counter — because surely the whole point of the journey is to reach the destination? So, if you’re like me: goal driven, armed with a to do list, considering efficiency a top tier compliment — then withhold your criticism for half a second and hear me out. I have found (and I may be oversimplifying things here) the beauty of anything I have created has been found in the process of creation and not so much in the finished creation. Now, there is space to argue that if I were a more skilled creator, then this may not hold as true, but there I go again, making creativity something measurable, something to achieve, claiming there is a standard to meet and that I am in danger of falling short. When there isn’t, and you can’t fall short.
‘Well, what now, then?’ you may ask. Because so far I have offered no real how to, have I? Maybe that’s because there is no ‘one size fits all’ answer here (again, it’s about the journey). So let’s just start with that — the first steps — and then hopefully you’ll find your own way, get caught up in the freedom of it all, the mess and the exploring, the mediums you swear never to try again (for me it was embroidery), and those that make your soul sing music it hadn’t before (again, with the dramatic tone).
Step 1 – Think like a 4 year old
I am no phycologist, but you’d be damn lucky to have made it this far without having some construct of what creativity should look like. Well, it shouldn’t. I don’t know how else to put it except that it shouldn’t. Each process is unique, your approach will be different to mine. There are no expectations, we have to make ourselves supple to the process, bending, allowing ourselves to be guided and moulded through the freedom to simply create and not our preconceived idea of what our process should look like (que: the finger paint and 4 year olds who unashamedly hold up their splattered page about as proudly as a frenchman looking at a Monet). Every time you hear that little voice telling you, ‘that isn’t good enough, start again, this just isn’t your thing’, think of those 4 year olds and hold up your piece proudly. (Disclaimer: perhaps do this in front of the mirror, it’s not that normal after preschool and you may come across as a little odd, but who am I to judge.)
Step 2 – Find your space
This step may involve a few false starts, and that’s okay. The journey, remember? I gave acrylic paints a go, it wasn’t really for me. I was a little disheartened, but I walked out with a couple of very abstract canvases to hang in some of the less visited areas of the house (so there was that, I guess). On I went to charcoals — nope, straight up ‘no’. I realised fast that colour is far too important to me to spend hours staring at as black and white page. Oh well, next came watercolour and in the words of Maria Kondo, ‘It sparked joy’. Don’t get me wrong, I had to try really hard to quiet the self criticism, and I have learnt some humbling lessons (most of which could have been avoided had I not taken myself so seriously). I guess that’s where so much of the reluctance to create comes from, doesn’t it? — taking oneself too seriously. Long story short — don’t be afraid to try your hand at a few different things. Dip into a couple paint mediums, maybe try a stitch or two, snap some photos, or even jot a poem down. Take a few steps, you will soon find your space.
Step 3 – Embrace the honeymoon period
Okay, so now you’ve found a space that sparks joy. A new lease on life. There’s a bounce in your step, your joie de vivre is back. You’ve started to think of your life in terms of ‘pre artíst’ and ‘post artíst’ you. (Okay, not quite, but you are probably feeling pretty accomplished.) And then out of nowhere, the honeymoon stage comes to a grinding halt and you are faced with some very real self doubt, and a big dose of perfectionism. Well it’s probably time to do some damage control. You gotta stop those thoughts in their tracks. Bring out the big guns. I have, on many occasions, found the old saying ‘equipment maketh the man’ to ring true, and this is no exception. I am not saying you should throw cash at the problem, necessarily… but I am suggesting you throw equipment at the problem. Find tools that inspire you. Scroll Pinterest until your mind is swimming in images. Grab a camera and get outside. Pull out the dust-gathering journal you were given three years ago and start writing whatever comes to mind (it doesn’t matter, just get the words out). If you appreciate the beauty of a good Moleskin, don’t hold back. It’s well known that words flow smoother onto the pages of a Moleskin than lesser cousins in the journal family). Visit beautiful buildings, hike winding trails up a mountain, wander through tree lined avenues – just pursue beauty wherever you find it. Get what you need to push you right on through the slump and back into your creative glory.
Step 4 – Be an enthusiast to find the enthusiasts
Get out there and find people like you, peoples whose fires were lit by the same flame as yours. People who see your passion and raise you theirs. An overused saying but probably rather apt: ‘You attract what you are.’ So be the enthusiast and you’ll find the enthusiasts. I don’t think it’s worth my words to continue, when Roald Dahl is able to say it so well. So I’ll just leave this quote here for you to take what you will, because if he can’t convince you, I am afraid little may.
‘I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are interested in it, no matter what it is, go at it full speed. Embrace it, love it, hug it with both arms. And above all, become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good.’ – Roald Dahl
Step 5 – Repeat steps one to four
Because you know as well as I, that life is no walk in the park. Our boats get rocked and there are many a day where whiskey goes down a whole lot smoother than tea. All I’m saying is, on those whiskey kinda days, a little something to spark joy won’t go amiss.
