The Power of Making and Mending as Radical Acts of Care

Plus an essay from my book, The Perpetual Visitor: A Field Guide for Everyday Artists

My first embroidery project, which will read “Doing My Best” once it’s finished (I started with the flowers first).

Friends, I hope this newsletter finds you finding some meaningful moments of quiet and delight this weekend, however small they may seem. I’m grateful to have today off from my beloved patchwork quilt of three jobs, and besides the usual weekend activities of a grocery shop and some laundry, I intend to make a batch of minestrone soup in my favorite red pot, and when it’s done simmering away on the stove, curl up on the couch for a couple of hours with some hot apple cider and a couple of good books (currently toggling back and forth between Kitchen Witch: Food, Folklore & Fairy Tale by Sarah Robinson and An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott).

I’ve been thinking about the role of creativity and making in the midst of this past month’s events, musing about if and how making things fits into our larger efforts to evoke change and build stability in our communities and in our world. As it happens, I read Erin Boyle’s Substack essay about finding and sharing our gifts yesterday and breathed the kind of sigh of relief that only comes when you finally understand you aren’t alone in something. I’ve been a fan of Erin’s writing and work for a long time, but this particular piece really hit home.

Erin writes, “The online world is noisy right now. There’s justified fury everywhere and bad news made worse around every corner. I hope that in the midst of all of it we find a way to persevere in tasks small and large that can make a tangible difference.”

She dares to imagine that it is possible - nay, more powerful - to align ourselves with good, with progress, with love and care for all beings when we also engage in small tasks, such as the mending of a sweater or the making of a hot meal for a friend in crisis, that connect us with one another. This might be the most grounding idea I’ve stumbled upon in the emotional fog that has been this last week and a half.

When it comes to forging community and working toward the greater good, the notion of revolution arriving in the form of knitting a scarf or sharing something homemade around a kitchen table might feel sappy at best, irresponsible at worst. Yet I encourage us to reflect on just how much and how often we have been led to believe that these simple, sacred, ancient forms of taking care are small and ineffectual. Through the lens of individualism and and patriarchy and consumerism, these kinds of tasks - many times, traditionally associated with the divine feminine - have been smeared with all sorts of insults and accusations: silly, stupid, stale.

There is no doubt that we will need to continue to do the work, big and small, in order to continue to create lives for ourselves and our children that feel safe and sturdy and sustainable.

Yet, what if what we have been taught about the power of such “small” tasks isn’t true?

What if we possess more power than we believe, and the wielding of it begins in our own homes and schools and neighborhoods?

What if we have underestimated the act of transforming seemingly separate raw materials into something whole and useful and strong? What if we have underestimated the act of transforming ourselves and each other in a similar way?

What if engaging in these radical acts of care for ourselves and our neighbors is, well, radical?

As I keep reflecting on the intersection of collective creation and our own individual creative practices, I decided to share one of the essays from my 2019 book, The Perpetual Visitor: A Field Guide for Everyday Artists, titled “No Creative Shaming Allowed, Or How I Learned That Taylor Swift is Right”.

Looking back on this collection of essays about how to nourish your creativity, I think I realize that more than anything, this book is a series of pep talks and hype speeches in written form. It’s a love letter to anyone who has ever tried to make something out of nothing. Whether you are a musician, seamstress, or the most passionate chocolate chip cookie baker ever, we need to cheer each other on.

In a world that doesn’t always value this kind of work (and play), I find I need to make sure to remind myself (and others) of how vital it is to create and notice beauty, goodness, and innovation.

I need to know that taking the time to flex my imagination muscles and make a bit of magic is not a waste of time or frivolous.

I need to be reassured that creativity, no matter what form it takes in your own life, is sacred and special and necessary. Maybe you need reassuring, too?

As always, I hope you read something you love, and encourage you to share this post with a kindred spirit in your own life who might need a reminder that a creative practice - whether it be making a pie, composing a poem, or planting a pumpkin in your garden - is one of the most meaningful ways you can root yourself in the present moment, connect more deeply with yourself and others, and ultimately, help craft the kind of world in which we want to thrive, together.

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No Creative Shaming Allowed, Or How I Learned That Taylor Swift is Right

Raise your hand if you have ever gotten on a soapbox and shamed someone for doing something that you don’t agree with. Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? You can’t see me, but I’ve got both hands up over here. Real high. I mean honestly, who hasn’t been on both ends of the shaming spectrum, both dishing it out and being on the receiving end of the unwelcome judgement of others? Neither circumstance is something that feels healthy, pleasant, or sustainable. Shaming is when we deliberately humiliate and belittle someone for a choice they are making, or even for the way that are. Shaming is nasty. It’s cruel. Creative shaming takes calculated effort. 

Do not creatively shame people. Everyone has a unique creative DNA and has arrived at this moment in their lives based on too many factors, circumstances, and yes, luck, to count.

 Some artists have trust funds and can afford to work on their craft full time. This is ok.

Some artists work part time and raise their children full time and make art, too. This is ok. 

Some artists work full time and make art as much as they can. This is ok.

Whenever we find ourselves saying “So and so just got back from an artist’s retreat to work on their novel. Do you know how expensive those places are? Must be nice”, an alarm bell should immediately go off in our heads and hearts. This kind of "how dare you do something fun when there are people out there with REAL responsibilities" shaming we do to each other (and ourselves) is dangerous. In such a moment, we are dealing with our own frustration, creative block, or just plain jealousy by trying to bash someone else’s creative journey. This is creative shaming.

If we find ourselves listening to someone who works full time at a call center identify themselves as an artist, do we bristle with the thought “An artist, huh? Who do you think you are to call yourself that?” This is creative shaming.

Shaming might be savory at the time but consider how effective it actually is in building the creative life you want. Will insulting someone else’s abundance of time to work on their art give you more time to work on yours?

No.

Creative shaming gives us the illusion that we are taking actions when it comes to our dreams and goals, but in reality, we are actually just denying these dreams and goals, stuffing them further and further down until they covered up by the negativity and we can longer see the beauty that lies beneath the hatred, anger, and envy. Focusing on shaming others’ dreams and goals only steals precious energy that we could be using to make our own dreams and goals a reality. 

There are all kinds of artists and creative souls and none of them are any more valuable than any other. Ideas and inspirations and insights visit all of us, visit any of us who are interested, open, and curious about what we might discover. Those are the only requirements. As for the rest, anything goes.

I've been teaching in some form for about sixteen years and during that time, I've witnessed these horribly mixed messages that we send both to young people and to our grown-up selves. Are you a child? You get the green light for play — it's not selfish at all! It's for your own good and the good of everyone else in the world! We want a world full of creative and confident people, right? Of course. Play on, kids!

Are you an adult who took this creative urging to heart and is still walking in this world with curiosity, creativity, and wonder? Seriously, Adult? What are you doing? Cut it out and get real. Face the music (don’t make any). Taking time for yourself is now officially selfish. How come you can get your head out of the clouds and be miserable down here with the rest of us?