good things

Last week I checked my email and found an automated message indicating one of my pals had posted a new blog. I guess Facebook and Instagram have sort of changed how we think of blogging but this was a “real” blog. The kind where the writer sits at a keyboard with both hands and types out a longer form collection of thoughts. There may also be a photo or two, but the words are sort of the point. The pal was Kasha (pronounced with a long A, then a short A), a running friend I found through social media. Kasha is a run streaker coming up fast on her 5 year runniversary and also a southerner. (I identify with most regular runners but even more strongly with someone used to running through the soupy southern humidity.) Kasha is also very intelligent and very encouraging so she’s a good friend to have. It had been a while since I remembered reading her blog posts so I took a couple of seconds to email her and let her know that I enjoyed the update. She responded and indicated that while she often has thoughts worthy of sharing, she struggles to actually sit down and type them out for a post. I read her email sitting in my makeshift office (long story) and it immediately sent me into deep thoughts about why we put off doing things. 

I have another long distance friend, a very talented and creative person who shared recently that she is struggling to practice her art. I’ve known this person for a good while and I’ve seen videos of her solo performances that left me in absolute awe. This is the kind of talent and skill that you instantly become jealous of when you witness it and you think “if I could do that, I’d do it all the time!”. These videos have made me smile, laugh, and have even changed my mood. When you have the power to produce something so sublime, so beautiful, what could prevent you from doing it? 

I made a lot of new drawings in 2020. Probably somewhere near 24 or 25 things I’d call “real drawings”. These are larger pieces and not the little butts or goofy things I draw each week or for studio sales. Real drawings I’d send to a gallery to represent my creative work. I slowed down a bit over the winter break and coming into 2021 I started and finished one more drawing to include with my pandemic related series. In the 8 months since I finished that drawing I had a couple of shows and did some things, but I didn’t start a new drawing. There were days I’d feel like I wanted to draw. I’d walk into my studio and see the pile of nonsense on my drawing table and I’d walk back out. Other days I’d just avoid the studio altogether and be busy doing other things. Some nights I even sat my butt on the couch and watched 10 seasons of “Friends”.

I enjoy drawing. I enjoy letting people see my drawings, hearing their reactions to them, and engaging in conversations about them. It’s actually one of my favorite things. So why did I wait 8 months before clearing off my table and starting a new drawing?

I read Kasha’s email and sat in my chair at school thinking about this. If I enjoy eating chocolate and get some sort of pleasure from it, would I walk past a chocolate bar for 8 months and just say, “Nah, not really feeling that today”?

The thing that makes it worse for me is that part of my everyday job is to tell students to get to work. To tell them that you can’t procrastinate or sit around waiting for inspiration to visit you like the tooth fairy. You have to get up and get to work even when, ESPECIALLY WHEN you don’t want to work. And yet…8 months passed before I grabbed a pencil and a piece of wood and started a new drawing.

There’s something about creating something and sharing it that is innately positive. You may choose to call it “spiritual”, “good”, “divine”, or any other synonym. If you believe in a creation of any sort, you may easily associate our small acts of creativity with whatever being you believe set that first act of creation into motion. You may even see yourself as a partaker in the continuing act of creation in some small way. If you have no such belief system and yet you are a creator of things, you may still cling to the positive feeling of making a thing where there was no thing and showing that thing you made to another human. It feels good. We can probably all at least to agree in a belief in Martha Stewart and say that “it’s a good thing”.

The reasons for not making things can be almost infinite. You may need a rest. You may be a little like me and function best with waves of intense production followed by intense inactivity. You may have been hurt in some way. It could be a bad day. You may be lazy. Maybe you’re scared. Maybe you’re just not sure that what you have to offer will actually do anyone any good. I mean, will the world really notice if I stop making my little drawings?

I invite you to think with me about this. You can’t sit in my chair, but wrap these thoughts around your worldview and see what you come up with. As you do that, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking at the moment. I believe that there are forces of good and forces of evil. I believe that the act of creating is innately good and that it has a positive impact on people. I believe that creative people come from the factory wired to make and share their talents. Because these things are good, I believe that there are forces that would really prefer that creative people not create things. I believe that creatives are provided with a ton of alternatives to creating in order to stop them or at least slow them down. I mean, why would someone or something evil want there to be more good?

I believe what you create matters.

Two weeks ago I walked into my studio, cleared off my table, and put a piece of prepared wood in front of me. I picked up a pencil, opened my sketchbook, and started drawing things on the wood. I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to do it again. That the composition would be awful, the imagery not precise, and the colors all wrong. I worried the drawing wouldn’t resonate with people. Sometime after putting the first lines on the wood those fears faded. As the music flowed into my ears and the story developed on the wood, I felt like I was doing what I was meant to do. It felt great. It will feel great when you do it too, both for you and for the people you share it with.

Let’s go make some stuff.

If you're interested, and you are, you can find my friend Kasha's blog at atleastamile.com