Another post of unsolicited advice on how to make it in the creative world, from someone who has been in the trenches for a while.

Last week I wrote a post about intentionally making mistakes. I ended by mentioning that I have a technique to make your creative projects more fun. The good news is this is the easiest advice you will likely see from me. It is dead simple.

But first, a little explanation.

As I’ve said before, the path to becoming a professional creative is often a slog. It is work, work that is often bone-tiring and soul stripping. The fact that the work is necessary doesn’t always take the sting away from the process of making it. Sometimes your creative thing can be too much.

This is the dilemma of every creative person. To be professional we need to practice our craft at the highest levels. This means we have to be critical of our shit. But that very criticism can also be exhausting. Worse than just exhausting, it can strip away the simple joy we all feel at that spark of creation.

So what does one do? We need to be critical, but being critical is often too much?

My solution is to practice an art form for which you offer zero criticism. An art where you are free to do anything you feel, without reservation, and without care.

For me this is photography

Mind you, I have friends who are professional photographers, and I work with professional grade photography all the time. It’s just when I’m shooting with my phone I ignore all that as much as possible. I don’t photograph to impress anyone, and I don’t try to make pretty images. I just try to capture as quickly as I can the mood or the vibe I see in front of me. If I have to think too much about it, I’m doing it wrong. Complexity is the last thing I’m interested in. Speed is of the essence. You could say I am shooting from the heart, not the head.

My phone is littered with hundreds of these shots. Weird, abstract, silly, or just fun. Sometimes I post them on social media, but for the most part they remain something just for me. My little secret habit.

The key part as I mentioned above is I offer no criticism of these photos, nor do I try to make them professional. I have more than enough of that in my work life. What I don’t have professionally is something that is open to the mood of the moment; to the now. When I am shooting like this I am very much in the now, and very much not in my head.

I am also 100% in control, which is another reason to practice a craft like this. My professional work as an artist is not only criticized by me, but by others, all the fucking time. I cannot tell you how exhausting this is. Weird people that I don’t know, and who have very poor taste, will offer criticism of my work that I have to follow. Da fuq? Mind you, don’t cry for me over this. I mean I’m getting paid for their criticism, and paid well, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t often rub the wrong way. But in my little world of just me and my phone I am the one in charge, and what I say goes.

Almost any craft can be practiced this way. I often do something similar in writing, where I will purposely write a scene in another voice just to get a feel for how it lands. I’ve written a few very short stories this way. I’m apt to post them on FB, but only because I don’t want to subject them to the criticism of making them a “professional” story. They are intentional throw aways, experiments that are fun to write, but should not be taken seriously.

I also on occasion cook like this, taking a regular recipe and then messing with it. With cooking I have to be somewhat careful. I cannot get too crazy if I’m feeding my family, but if it’s just for me, then why not? A little chilly powder on your popcorn? Sure. A pinch of brown sugar on your bacon? Hell yes.

For years Teri has made pancakes every Saturday, and for almost as long I’ve been making my own syrup. The main three ingredients are: frozen fruit, honey, and cinnamon. I follow no recipe and often tweak it. The trick to syrup is knowing that when you heat fruit it will release its liquid. A handful of frozen berries will be plenty runny after a minute in the microwave. A fork breaks up the rest into small pieces. If it’s too runny I thicken with banana (which also sweetens). If it’s too bitter I add more honey. If it’s too bland I add more cinnamon (or ground nutmeg, or pepper, or chili powder, or…) I don’t measure, and I don’t think. I add to taste, and eat every result. Simple and fun, and endlessly open to creativity.

One can cook without criticism, or paint, or act, or dance, or even needle point. Hell you can even make t-shirts like this. The key is to keep your work innocent of criticism. It should have absolutely zero professional intent. It can’t be a money thing for you, or a side-hustle. Most of all, you can’t think too much about it. It needs to be the pure spark of creativity, with none of the baggage that follows.

This is you, creating your own work just for yourself. It’s your own special thing set up in your own special place, where no one else is allowed. Or, as I like to think of it, it’s your creative vomit, barfed up on the road in a place so remote that no one else has to smell it.

However you wish to call it, the key is to keep it loose and fun. You are digging in your raw id here, playing inside your own head. The work remains holy, but only so long as you don’t care too much about it. You are practicing the “do” of creativity, not the “why,” training yourself to separate whatever mood you happen to be experiencing in the current moment from the work of creation.

The goal is not to make great work, but to make a great life, because in the end this is what you are aiming for: Making your life better by having a little more fun.

Try it and see. Attempt beautiful things without thought or care. See what that does for your peace of mind.