As I continue to document my creative vision quest, I'm using "The Creative Ambush" by Matteo di Pascale as my guide. We've already tackled "To Demolish" in the last post – smashing those silent societal "shoulds" that tell me how to live and act my age. Now, the journey continues with some even deeper self-reflection.
The third section of the book really hit me. It delivered a stark truth: “if we don't live the way we say we want to live, we're not just dreamers, we're jokers. And our life becomes the joke, and it's not funny” Well. That landed. For someone who claims to want to be a creative, an artist, I realize that I’m not doing a whole of creative, artsy things. So now, I’m taking a much harder look at my days and what I really want to do.
What do I really want to do? What do I truly love? The answers I came up with when I dug deep are all completely whimsical. I love coloring. I love painting. I love making jewelry and working with clay. I love to sew. But the common thread, the big love that weaves all these together for me, is decorating - rooms, parties, notebooks, outfits - anything. And let's be honest, a lot of decorating is about creating something that just looks cool – beautiful, interesting, perhaps even a bit whimsical. It's about arranging things, playing with colors and textures, and making a space elicit a physical feeling. It's not about utility; it's about delight. And that's okay. Sometimes, the most important art serves no purpose other than to bring joy.
Another insight from this section felt like a punch to the gut, but in a good way: if something or someone feels tiring, there's something wrong with it. Otherwise, it would be intense. Things that are intense, that truly engage us, create energy; they don't drain it. This has been a powerful lens through which to examine my creative time, my relationships, and even my daily routines. When I’m doing something I really love, I will get completely consumed with it, even forgetting to eat. Maybe it’s crocheting something for a baby shower - I can get so into a new pattern or just the joy of crocheting that before I know it, 8 hours have passed and I’m thinking about modifying the pattern to make something else. On the other hand, I can work for 8 hours, just sitting in front of my computer and be so exhausted that I can’t even think straight. Same general physical activity - much different mentally.
This entire section circles back to the question of the title: "Who is this child we are not allowing ourselves to be?" For me, that child is the one who finds pure delight in mixing colors, arranging matching fabrics, building giant butterfly wings (long story) or simply getting lost in the rhythm of making something with my hands - for the sheer joy of it. It's the part of me that doesn't need a grand purpose or a buyer; it just needs to create. It’s the part that knows decorating isn’t just for houses; it’s for life itself – making it aesthetically pleasing, even if just to me.
This isn't about being childish. It's about tapping into that unfiltered curiosity, that pure impulse to create that we all had before the world taught us about "productivity" and "market value." It's about understanding that the things that truly light us up, even the completely useless, irrational and whimsical ones, are the very things that recharge us.
So, as I move forward on this quest, I'm trying to ask myself more often: What would that playful, unburdened child want to create today? What "useless" thing would bring me pure joy? What feels energizing, not draining? Because if my life is is a joke, I want it to be a hilariously creative one.
The journey continues, one joyful creation at a time. I’m off to figure out what useless passion I want to embrace today.
The next section is called Back to the roots. Now it's getting good.