Useful creativity
One of Gleek’s Christmas presents was a friendship bracelet kit. Yesterday we pulled it out and I spent a couple of hours sitting with her and teaching her how to make these knotted bracelets. I made them frequently when I was in high school and it was pleasant to find that the skill lingers in my fingers and memory. I also discovered joy just in the process of making something. I’ve found similar enjoyment from crochet, cross stitch, painting, drawing, and sewing. There is something innately satisfying about creating something that did not exist before I organized the components.
My love of crafting things has one major stumbling block. I dislike clutter. Because of this I have a hard time allowing myself to make things unless I know exactly what I will do with the object once it is done. I don’t want to spend hours enjoying the process of making something only to have the item relegated to garbage immediately thereafter. I can only hang so many things on my walls. We only need so many crocheted doll blankets. I only have so much room to store stuff. I rarely make crafts even though I enjoy the making, because I rarely have a use for the crafts after they are done. Making bracelets with Gleek was allowable because it fell under the “time spent with daughter” category rather than “useless craft” category. Interestingly this Crafts Must Be Useful edict only applies to things that I make. I’m quite happy to let the kids make piles of crafts that get thrown out because I understand that the process of creation is rewarding and valuable. I’m happy to support other adults in hobbies and crafts for the same reasons. It is only my stuff that has to pass scrutiny for usefulness.
I pondered all this as I tied knot after knot on the bracelets while Gleek chattered to me about which bracelet was intended for whom. I realized that I have the same usefulness filter on my writing. If I don’t have an intended home for a particular writing project, it does not get written. I always write for a particular magazine, or for a contest, or for a child, or for my blog. There is always a place for that piece of writing to go. I think this is why my blog has been so instrumental in restarting my life as a writer. It gave me a reason to put forth the creative energy. Why writing must pass the test of usefulness is a mystery to me. It is not as if the stories are creating clutter in my house. It is also interesting to note that if a story is not accepted to its intended home, I’m perfectly content to just let it exist.
Now I am tempted to spend time creating simply for creation’s sake, to prove that I am capable of doing so. Or perhaps the goal would be to teach myself how to do it. But I’m not sure that the usefulness filter is a problem. It certainly saves my house from piles of clutter. I find plenty of creative outlets that pass the usefulness filter, so I am not stunting my creative growth. In the end I suspect that this is just part of who I am and how I live my life.