Creativity is a path of self-discovery. I firmly believe that without creating anything, one can't really enjoy life to its full extent. And I don't mean that in a "braggy" way; creating can truly mean anything. I write once in a blue moon, and that is enough for me to consider myself engaging in the act of creating...

Semantics aside, this is going to be a reflection on 2 years of recreational creation (I apologize) of a person who does not make a living through "creativity". These points HAVE been said before; they are not new at all. Nevertheless, I hope you find pleasure in reading this (and, as some people I know, inspiration to begin making stuff).

How it feels

The first time I wrote was when a muse came to me (I honestly have no better way to describe the feeling). I just sat down in front of my laptop, opened my text editor, and decided that what I felt should be "put on paper". And it felt awesome. Those were good feelings, bad feelings, some neutral ones too. Short stories came to mind that described the situations I was put in by life. It felt... beautiful.

For a minute.

After that minute passed, and I've looked back at what I wrote1, I realized what I've done. It was painful, compared to the high I got from actually writing. The older the story was, the worse it got in my "reader" eyes.

I've since understood that this is going to happen every single time. Whatever I imagine my "magnum opus" to be, I am for sure going to feel the same towards it too. There is no escaping it. The "it" being:

I could have done this and that better. I've re-read this ten times before publishing, and still missed this?? HOW COULD I?!

It was inherent to the process. I'm not sure if this feeling is universal: some of my friends don't have such feelings towards their works2, some do. What's important to me is that I have them, and if you are to pursue any kind of creation, you likely will too3...

Despite me sounding like I'm dissatisfied with it, I do not believe so: I find myself thoroughly enjoying this whole thing when getting to write a new story or participating in a new project. Weird, huh?

It's all flawed

All art seems to be flawed in some way, and that's what gives it beauty. Every single piece you create, be it software, writing, painting, photograph, game, or literally anything else, has a piece of you in it. To be more precise, a piece of your worldview, of how it all looks like through your eyes.

I hear a lot recently about people getting over their mental health issues through extremely hard, unforgiving games. To be brief, these games, even while being hard, are fair and usually involve close to no luck. Repeated failure is normalized and no longer seen as catastrophic by the person playing. Why am I talking about this? I feel like this applies to the process of creation too.

Yes, my feelings of writing garbage (or acting badly in a friend's short film) are real, but what's also real is that the next piece is better. The therapy is in the fact that it doesn't matter that I fail here.

If I write a bad advert, I will make no money. If I write a bad story, nobody cares. I wrote it for myself because I enjoy the process. When I take a photo, I do not expect the composition and colors to be perfect for the current social media trend. They all come out flawed. And I feel like that's a good thing.

The feeling of emptiness

Sometimes life throws a curveball your way. A lot of the times, actually. Some people have friends they can vent to, some don't. Either way, if the curveball is particularly damaging (in creating the feeling of hopelessness), creation helps. Getting into a relationship after a long while of not being in one, breaking up, a job not working out, missing friends I had no ability to see for years...

All of it is in the stories I wrote, and every single time I clicked publish, I exhaled. I was now free from the feeling. No longer was it confined to my mind. I was shaped into something else, transformed into a digital being that lived its own life from that moment onwards. I could calm myself, converse with that being, reflect without reading “Dear journal, today I..."s.

Others seeing it was and still is an afterthought. It's a consequence that I'm going to discuss later in this chaotic essay mind-dump.

Personal feelings on different mediums

I began with writing stories. Awful, stupid stories. As they evolved and I found my rhythm, they began getting better. I enjoyed them more and more. At some point, I thought: “Wouldn’t it be great to write some poetry?"

No, it wasn't. I hated trying to write poetry. Luckily, I had a good friend who guided me through the two pieces I wrote. One is public, one is private. Nevertheless, it just was not for me. I wanted to make it good, and good poetry is restrictive in a way that did not resonate.

Photography is easiest to make the soul feel nice. You see beauty, you line up a shot, and you take it. Modern phones allow for good results to be produced, although they feel sterile a lot of the times, so I'd recommend using third-party apps that give less guidance and more space for flaws. Or just get a cheap old camera, like a Sony T70.

Moviemaking was the hardest, but it's also when I felt the most involved. I accidentally helped co-produce a short film my friend asked me to be an actor in, and that felt great. Juggling character emotions, the script, the photography, the lighting, etc., was a blessing as a creative outlet. We are going to repeat that at some point in the future, so I hope I'd be proud enough4 to publish it here, along with some brief thoughts about how it went.

At some point, the thought of writing a book crossed my mind, so I began my research. "If I write a book, I'd like it to be detailed. I'd like the connections to be there between a bunch of stuff" - I thought. I like Bleach (the manga), and almost everything there has a meaning either inside or outside of Bleach's universe. After 3 weeks of pondering, I realized that:

  1. 1.

    Right now, that would be too big of an undertaking.

  2. 2.

    I do not have nearly enough motivation to do that.

  3. 3.

    My wish for detail is a flaw that will keep me from making any attempts for a while.

Restrictiveness

Every form of art is restrictive (whatever you consider to be art is up to you). Some more so, some less. No matter how, these restrictions make creativity even more important, because there are always some, and, again, it's a good perspective to keep in mind for everyday life.

Expression

A lot of expression today is commoditized: this style of clothing, that morning routine, another cool thing I can buy to show everyone who I am as a person.

There is no commodity in creativity. You just output for the sake of output, for the sake of the beauty of it. You personally have no responsibility to put a diverse cast of characters into your story. You have no corporate obligation to kill your franchise because your new publisher asked you to.

You just do you. And that's good. The act is what makes you expressive. Even if the act is skiing, it is your soul that should be happy, not the followers on Instagram seeing you attempt a crazy flip because it will get likes. I don't think I ever even made a proper jump while skiing, yet going 80kph down the slope makes me feel like I'm expressing myself, and that makes me happy.

Mountains and happiness

I love mountains, and I love skiing. For me, there is nothing like the feeling of this deep connection to the mountain when you are flying down the slope at absurd speeds, speeds that make no sense to be traveling at for a human outside of a metal enclosure of sorts. To me, this is art...

But also, the weirdest form of art. Here I create nothing of substance. The only thing being created here is the feeling (or multitudes of them) that I get. And, I believe, this is the most important point of it all.

This is where my thoughts in this essay culminate: creating is not about making something physical or digital. It is about creating a feeling that you yourself find wonderful. It doesn't matter what you do, just create feelings by yourself. Don't look for external sources of it. Invoke your own meditation processes that make your head turn, butterflies scurry in your stomach, and air become thin in your lungs.

Consequences will vary. Some might just enjoy it, some might find it helps with mental health, some might accidentally make money off their art. But, no matter what they are, keep doing it.

Thank you for your time, I know it is valuable.