Playing With Creativity
Ditch work and rediscover playing.
3D Sushi Illustration from the Polygon Runway 3D Illustration course I’m taking
Remember when you played? I mean, really played, as a kid. Before sports, before competition, without being self-conscious or wondering what someone else would think. Playing wasn't something to be embarrassed about and other kids got it. The common pick up line for kids? "Do you want to play?" Completely innocent and without much conversation at all, you started playing with someone else. Play was whatever emerged. It might involve lots of running and yelling; or, maybe you flopped on your belly, popped open the crayons, and drew pictures together.
I loved drawing. At least that's how I remember it, memories being the mutable self-rewriting stories that we tell ourselves. And early on, I didn't worry about my drawings. Then later, I worried about being good. Before that, I drew pictures and won a prize at the local library for one I did. See, I always like libraries. I had a pre-school teacher that gave us coloring books for each little book we read. That was a superb deal!
In high school art class my teacher had what I considered (and still do) a flawed grading system. Your grade for a picture was based on the time spent creating the picture. It reinforced the notion that time equals quality — a self-destructive concept. It takes the time it takes, that's it. A picture that takes less time isn't inherently worth less. I'd put down how much time I felt the picture was worth, not how much it actually took. I suppose that could have been considered cheating. Another guy in the class certainly did, protesting when I turned in a watercolor, "He didn't spend that much time on it!"
But time was the currency of the class. The teacher recognized that fact. He studied the picture and then looked back at the other student. "Don't you think it's worth it?"
Damn right it was.
And that was a problem too. What is it worth? Is it good? Do other people like it? Can I share it with others? What if no one likes it? What if a person in authority dislikes it? Or likes it? No real difference there. Suddenly that fun "play" of drawing is gone and there are other voices in your head. You look at other artists and compare how many followers they have, how many likes, or how much their latest Kickstarter raised to produce their book.
The death knell for "play" is when you start calling it "work." I have to get "work" done. As adults, we're trained that way. You have to work hard. Do better work. Improve your work. What's your development plan? Be disciplined.
3D illustration in-progress—I loved making dioramas as a kid and this reminds me of that.
Play Instead
I think you're happier if you're playing. If you end up spending hours and hours on your passion, do it because you can't wait to get back to it. Because it's the most fun thing. Kill your expectations around earning. Don't think about that when you're playing and having fun. Would a kid playing ask themselves how much they're going to make off their drawing? How this one is the one that's going to be their breakout creation? No. They're playing. Having fun. Immersed in creativity and loving it so much that they're protesting and dragging their feet when the parent tells them it's time to take a bath or come to dinner.
If you haven't played like a kid in a long time, give it a shot. If you want to draw, pick up crayons or colored pencils or draw on the computer. It doesn't matter, just get lost in creating. Want to sing? Sing along with songs or sing with friends. Whatever is fun. Writers, sculptors, whatever calls to you, that you ache to get back to—do it. Go play.
Later, after you've had fun playing and put on your parent-voice to come in for dinner, you can ooh and aah over what you created with your kid-voice. You can stick your creation up on the refrigerator door or Instagram or publish it as an e-book. It's all the same. Be happy. You had fun. You played. And guess what?
You can play more after dinner too. As long as you finish your peas.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
I’m having fun playing with a new challenge. I’m writing short short stories, under 2,000 words, many under 1,000 words. I’m sharing them to my Instagram stories several times a week (that’s the fridge). They’ll drop off that, but premium READINARY subscribers can read the full archive of stories here. When I have 100 stories, I’ll publish a collection of them all.
Best wishes, always — Ryan