28 Oct Why Make Things?

I’m in the midst of writing my first book, as well as crafting a few of my own original musical projects that will be released in the coming months. I like to be more consistent on my blog and in posting content to social media but I’ve been trying to hone my focus to prioritize making consistent deposits on these long form works. As I work on my book and my records, it is good for me to take a break and make some shorter form things to give me a bit of connection to the people who interact with my work. 

Shorter form works feel like sprints. They give me a more immediate satisfaction of getting to a finish line. I often feel like I’m running a marathon with these larger projects. They are challenging my endurance. I’m learning to relish the highs that come from engaging with the process as they come. At this point in these works, there is little to no external feedback or validation. Oftentimes, I have to remind myself of why I’m spending so much time creating these things. 

Along the way, I have dealt with a lot of discouragement caused by any number of factors. Discouragement most often presents itself as internal voices of doubt. Here’s a short list of the messages I face on a consistent basis:

1. No one cares about your music.
2. No one is going to read or care about your book.
3. You have nothing original or helpful to say.
4. You are in over your head.
5. If you do complete anything you’re making, it will be trash.
6. You’re wasting your time.

These messages are lies and deception. Sometimes it takes all of my strength just to debunk them. Once I finish wrestling these messages to the ground, the question still remains: Why Do I Make Things?

There are certainly all sorts of reasons why humans make things. I think at the end of the day we all want our intentions for creating things to be pure. For that matter, I think we would all prefer for our intentions to be pure in everything we do. If not, we surely hope that the people we deal with have good intentions.

To me, there is something disingenuous about basing one’s motivation for creating on external validation. I’m not saying that it’s completely wrong to derive some sense of motivation from external validation. What I am saying is that making external validation the reason you do things, or in this case the reason that you create, is a very precarious position to put oneself in. When I slip into making this motivation foundational, I find myself trying to impress people or trying to be life changing or profound. I then judge what I make on its ability to manipulate a response from other people. This basis of motivation always feels wack to me. Why? Because it is rooted in my ego.

The best things I make, or at least my favorite things I create, have been a result of honesty. This is being honest about what choices I think best serve the thing I’m making. It’s allowing myself to be honest about what I like or dislike, not what I think everyone else will like. It is the result of giving myself the space to explore things I honestly hear. It’s when I honestly share about what I’m experiencing in my life. It starts with a sense of personal accountability to honesty that causes the root of the thing I’m creating to resonate with me at my core. Then, I just try to communicate the vision to others as clearly as I can. If it’s for them, dope. If not, dope.  

At this point, I trust that what I’ve created will be compelling to whoever it’s for but I can let go of it knowing that it is truly compelling to me. It’s so easy to get caught up in trying to make things for others that we forget that we matter. It’s our art. Our voice. Yes, we hone our craft so that we can communicate our intentions accurately but I think that’s pretty much the extent of it. The work of creating is that of learning to understand and clarify your own intentions. This is why I always get a little confused when people lament about finding their artistic voice. We never bother too much about our speaking voice. Instead, we concern ourselves with learning language, using that language to communicate ideas as clearly as we know how. Our voice develops naturally around the language.

I think this is what it needs to be. It starts with me managing me well, which is to say developing both my ability to communicate and my understanding of my own intentions. It’s committing myself to doing the work God gave me to do and not allowing the hype of what others are doing to distract me (this is a whole discussion of its own). I’m continually reminded of the truth that I am my responsibility. As much as I want to help others, I have to remain aware of the fact that my greatest contribution comes out of using my creativity to make the most of the cards I’ve been dealt. This goes for the artistic space as well. I believe I’m collaborating with God in order to step up to this responsibility. As I embrace it, I remember to simply share my discoveries along the way as transparently as I can.

So, why do I create?

Well, because I’m created in the image of God, the Ultimate Proliferator. I believe every human is created in the image of a stunningly brilliant, endlessly innovative God. I create because making things allows me to discover truths about myself and life itself. In some very real sense, the things we make have a hand in making us as well. God can use these things to help form us. And every now and then, the things we create bring some form of delight or insight to others.

Here are a few questions for you to takeaway and reflect on…

1. Why do you make things?
2. What is one thing you make that brings you joy?
3. What are some things you’ve discovered about yourself and life itself by making the things you delight in making?