I started crocheting again and noticed something unexpected. My writing felt clearer, and so did some of my creative decisions. It made me wonder whether different kinds of creativity feed each other in ways we do not always notice.
creative practice
6 posts
I started wondering whether creativity really stays inside neat little boxes. Can making something with our hands quietly change the way we think, write, or approach other creative work?
Sometimes creative work doesn’t need fixing. Sometimes it needs a little distance. I’ve been wondering whether looking somewhere else for a while might be exactly what helps curiosity return.
Preparation can be part of the creative work, but sometimes it quietly becomes a way to stay near the project without having to begin. How do we know when planning is still helping and when it has turned into a hiding place?
I have done the groundwork. The notes exist. The outline exists. I know what I want to say, or at least I know enough to begin finding out what I want to say. The project is not vague anymore. It has a shape, a direction, and several pages of evidence that I have already spent time thinking about it. And yet, starting the actual writing still feels difficult. Not impossible. […]
Lately I’ve been wondering if I’m splitting myself thin. Not because I’m overwhelmed, but because my attention is moving in several directions at once. I can’t tell if this is dilution or distribution, and I’m learning to sit with that question instead of rushing to answer it.