One of the things that separate us humans from most other species is our compulsion to create. Throughout all of human history, we have found a need to create art, music, poems, and stories. Whether these are written down or passed through generations as an aural history or daubed across cave walls, etched into scrolls or lovingly written into your favourite notebook with your best pen, the process of creating in and of itself is as important (if not more so) than the outcome.
It’s one of the reasons why I don’t think AI will ever truly replace creative work because while it may be able to create on the basis of what is done before, it cannot create because there is a deep need inside to do so.
But don’t worry, this is not about AI or the future of creativity. It is a look into why the process itself is so very important to us and our wellbeing.
So firstly, I want you to put aside any need to make your creation a part of your business. Instead, I want you to focus on what happens when you embark on a journey of creation.
It’s the journey, not the result
Often, we are so focused on the end result being right, – perfect even – that we don’t notice that the real benefit comes from the process of creation itself. In fact, if we worry less about our first or even second attempts being perfect, we might let the act of creating flow more freely.
One of the saddest phrases I hear is: “I’m not that creative”. Or other versions include having no imagination or being more about logic than creativity.
We tend to think of creativity as being the gamut of the arts. Creative people are artists, writers, actors, and directors. They work in the creative industries. These are often industries that are underpaid and undervalued.
Even if you search for “why do humans create?” Search engines give you answers as to why we create art. The bots assume that one and both are the same thing.
Creativity goes beyond art
Artistic creativity is not the only way in which you can be creative and is not the only implication of the term. And here I think is a mirror of our occasional attitude towards creativity.
We strongly link creativity with art when in fact it should be about any process of creating. Let’s take something polar opposite to art and look Ito the world of science.
To create a vaccine or cure for a disease, you need to be creative. Of course, you need to understand hard facts and data but you also need to apply them in a creative way.
Tessellating shapes is a really good example of how maths can be used for creativity. These are mathematically specific shapes that fit together. If you’ve seen the work of MS Escher then you’ve seen tessellating shapes in action for art.
In fact, the first known instance of tessellating shapes is around 4000 BC in Sumerian art. And they are a significant feature of Islamic art and design which have inspired further creations throughout history, including some of our own Victorian tiling designs that you’ll find in period properties across the land.
You see, creation can be as much about maths, science and history as it can be about art.
The process in which you fit together a particularly pleasing and repeating pattern can give you the same feeling as working out a particular chord progression and lyrics while writing a song, or writing an article.
When we stop thinking of creativity in terms of art and instead think of it as part of our humanity, we can find ways to connect more with it on a personal level.
Own your creativity
Unfortunately, in our culture, we are more and more told to consider creativity as a nice to have. Art is something that’s not seen as necessary. Reading a book is something you fit into the edges and gaps around your day. Baking is a pastime. Writing for pleasure is often felt as a waste of time. And so we start to devalue something that is so intrinsically human.
If you were to put some crayons and a piece of paper in front of a small child, they would start to make marks as soon as they could grip that crayon. In fact, even younger children can be found to communicate by experimenting with the sound and feel of their vocals before they can even form a word. And this will continue until they hit school.
We don’t stop having that urge to create once we stop being children. Often other priorities and fears get in the way. To create a song we usually have to learn an instrument, understand how a song is structured, and have the time to practise and perfect it. And then once we’ve got something we’re pleased with, we then have to overcome incredible nerves to perform.
Compare that with a 5-year-old who has come up with a song and is happy to stand and perform it in front of you without a second thought. As we grow, we become self-aware. We start to fear failure, what others think, and how we feel about ourselves. All of this adds up until we realise that we’ve stopped trying to create at all.
Now, that might be a bit dramatic because as you’re reading this newsletter, there is a high chance you are building your own business or you work within a creative industry and therefore are creating every day even if you might not always realise it.
But wouldn’t it be nice to channel that inner 5 year old and just sit and create for creation’s sake?
How we value creativity
Our other issue is that we don’t value creativity in the same way we do productivity.
All too often we start our creative careers being told we need to work for exposure. We do internships and offer work for free to prove our worth. Even when we have “made it” we are often bottom of the budget because someone knows this guy who can do it for 200 quid. Or they are taking it back in-house.
Now, I don’t blame the people who want the cheaper option. In fact, I understand it. I will say that everyone has the capacity to do creative writing, draw, make music, and create. And they absolutely do. But not everyone can do it to a professional standard.
That takes time, experience, and lots of learning. When it comes to creativity in business, you need to appreciate the skills of your creatives.
But in a personal capacity, having something where you do that creative practice is incredibly important. And it also is part of valuing it.
Creativity and wellbeing
Creativity isn’t a nice to have, an add-on if we can afford the time. It’s central to being able to process and reflect our world back to us.
In his book, “Creativity, Wellbeing and Mental Health Practice”, Tony Gillam states that: “living happily – enjoying a high level of wellbeing – is essential to mental health… creativity is at the heart of this”.
He draws on the example of Elgar playing dances for those living in Worcester City Lunatic Asylum which was where he wrote Land of Hope and Glory. And covers that we can at times create a certain romanticism between mental health and creativity. (I live in Worcester and could not have told you why Elgar was famous or that he did this until I researched this newsletter).
This reminds me of Hannah Gadsby’s standup show Douglas where she quite rightly points out that it wasn’t Van Gogh’s bipolar which helped him see the yellows of the sunflowers to paint them but the medication he took to reduce the side effects of the disorder.
Likewise, in her graphic novel Marbles, Ellen Forney grapples with a bipolar diagnosis in her 30s and what taking medication might mean for her creativity.
Follow those creative seeds
Perhaps most compelling is that Gillam argues that to live a happy life we need to also live a creative one. By following our creative seeds and enjoying the process of watching them grow, we can start creating something for ourselves that may well stand outside our business.
At the same time, these creative endeavours can help form and grow our business.
When I had my daughter I decided to make a business from my creative practice. I started a craft subscription box. It involved working with other creatives, hand-dying yarn, and creating knitting patterns and was so much fun for a while. Then it started to feel like work as work so often does.
I took so much from that business and brought it forward into the one you see today. But I have also not picked up any needles since I downed tools on the business. There is a danger in turning your creative passion into a business.
On the other hand, I absolutely love writing and have turned this into a business. I can’t imagine a day when I wouldn’t want to write. So it can go either way.
The point is that you don’t need to turn every creative endeavour into a business to make it worthwhile. Sometimes you just need to create for the sake of it. And you should never want to see that as a waste of time because you will take so much more from it than you’ll probably ever realise.
So go pick up that pen, baking pan, garden fork, paintbrush, or guitar and start creating. Future you will thank you for it.