Creativity | BulgingButtons

You know how you have lots of projects already in the works, but can never seem to find the time to finish them? You don’t? Oh. Well, I do.

Sometimes those projects linger for days, weeks, months, or in the case of several of my unfinished quilts, years. Still, I can’t quite bring myself to give up on them.

Just like Dug, I’m easily excited by new things.

SOMEDAY I may want to finish that particular project, so it sits tucked away, patiently waiting.

In the meantime, my attention gets drawn someplace else. New ideas pop into my head. New materials beckon to me. New trends emerge. “THAT’S what I want to do!” I tell myself, so nine times out of ten I give myself permission to go for it.

I’m not one to start and finish one thing before I start and finish the next. I’m more of a multi-tasker. I may be reading three or four books, writing two or three pieces, and sewing two or three quilts at any one time. My dearly departed father would be both proud and appalled. Proud because he did the same thing. Appalled because he preached against it.

Today I’m on summer vacation. I have the itch to sew up some of the gorgeous fabrics that have been patiently decorating my past two sewing spaces. I’ve found a pattern I’d like to try, and I’m ready to go. All I have to do is move the laptop and replace it with the sewing machine. Then it’s go time!

I’m excited. I’m ready. Here we go!

There’s something very empowering about being brand new to something. You have the luxury of not knowing much, and therefore not being expected to be terribly proficient at whatever it is. Now granted, there are times when this is a horrible disadvantage, like say for a brain surgeon. I wouldn’t want to be standing there in an operating room facing my first exposed brain. That seems like a lot of pressure.

In other situations, however, I believe the role of the novice can be quite freeing.

Someone who picks up paints for the first time may not be inhibited by color theory in ways that a more experienced artist might. A first time novelist may not be as concerned with plot structure as a writer with several editions under her belt. A new quilter may not realize that certain fabrics “shouldn’t” go together, and as a result she might create something bold, beautiful, and unique.

Maybe it’s the creative pursuits where newness has the biggest advantage. Even in creative endeavors there are “rules” and ways of doing things that will produce somewhat predictable results, but many times those rules are meant to be broken. Newbies don’t worry so much about the rules, in fact they may be blissfully unaware of them. I think that’s a good thing.

With newness comes exploration and wonder, whether it’s with paints, fabrics, words, or human relationships. Everything is fresh and untried. Each path is new and unexplored. Some of them work out beautifully while others may be unsatisfying or even cause difficulty.

Whether you’re experimenting with clay or a banjo or a human heart, being new brings a level of energy and excitement that is difficult to recapture. Enjoy the experience. Expertise will come, if you want it badly enough, and if it’s meant to be.