Make room for play, please

All work and no play makes life hard to bear

Here’s a multimedia experiment with recycled materials I have been engaged with. It has radically changed my desire to make work, and I have been inspired by the freedom that play without an overriding agenda has done for my well being.

Originally Published 6-4-2015

Sometimes, you must give yourself permission to play. Art becomes not so fun when you have to keep doing the same thing again and again -- working hard to meet some external need -- like a deadline, due date, quota, etc., and you never have enough available time for free experimentation.

Every book, workshop, guideline or system for creative types will tell you that you really do need to schedule non-negotiable "play dates" for yourself, and on those dates, just make something with no agenda on it. Doing this on a regular, scheduled basis seems counter intuitive to the "creative muse sweeps in and gives me a genius idea" concept, but it isn't. You'll discover that practicing this routine will allow you to access your creativity with ease. Because you'll be familiar with the sensation of slipping in and out of the creative zone as easily as a dolphin flies and swims in front of a speeding ship. Doing this will put some "creativity bucks" in your bank account and you'll have them when you need them.
Who doesn't want that?

In my experience, it is absolutely true that "all work and no play" makes me one unhappy camper. If I make the critical error of cutting out play due to being overburdened with "real work" I get really cranky. When I get cranky, I can't make work, even when I have to. Even if there is time. Because I end up forcing myself to make work, but what I produce is flat, boring, soulless stuff. I hate that crap -- and it makes me want to not work. But I have to. So I sit at my bench and move things around and I can't seem to finish anything. Sound familiar? Its a vicious circle. Why? No fun. No fun = no energy. Artists are kids. We have to play to get energy. And that means cutting loose.

It doesn’t matter if you use it, finish it, or sell it –or not. Doing it is what matters.

This is some hand-painted, handmade paper I am encasing in resin and sawing out after it has cured.

I have learned that if you take care of yourself by scheduling play, there is a payoff. Because eventually, you'll discover that when you do need to crank out work to meet those deadlines, you won't be so exhausted or demoralized by the endless demands of external -- and you will have the energy to get that work done. Which will make you feel a sense of accomplishment, which in turn will make you feel satisfied enough to give yourself permission to play again. End of vicious circle.

On that note, I have been playing in my studio a lot lately. I know I will need energy to teach soon, so I am banking up some creativity bucks -- courtesy of regular, scheduled play dates for myself. None of this stuff I am creating has anything to do with anything, except that it's what I feel like playing with. I am flipping the proverbial bird to those external demands and doing what-I-freaking-feel-like-thank-you-very-much. There's metal, plastic, wood, paint, fabric, fiber, stone, glass, ceramic and other crazy stuff all over the studio. I have paint under my nails, loud music on the speakers, tools everywhere, books open, piles of inspirational materials next to my rocker and bed, and a big smile on my face. What a nice feeling. And, boy, do I feel smug.

So, go play. It will do you a world of good. and, I’ll meet you at the jungle gym...