You are so creative!

I actually get to hear that more often. That, and that I'm crazy. While I'm pretty sure I'm NOT crazy (even if my mom didn't get me tested), I'm not always sure that I'm creative.

For two reasons.

Firstly: in the past, when I was still a child at children's birthday parties, something creative was often done in addition to games. For example, each child was allowed to paint a white porcelain plate and take it home, or dinking glasses or T-Shirts were painted. The salt dough, popular at the time, was also used to keep the sugary children busy. Then you came home with a new bowl or coaster.

Even then, something happened to me that still happens to me today when, for example, I stumble into a workshop at a creative fair and have to "just do something":

Absolute lack of ideas in front of a white paper. Absolutely. Blank.

You can't expect more from me than a flower in the meadow at the moment.

What I need, secondly, is the spark.

I create something new, but I always need an input or a starting point that I can then use and develop from. That sounds like plagiarism, but it's not the same. I have many books on techniques that I get inspired with and then use in other contexts. When I leaf through a book at the end my head buzzes with ideas where else one can apply and transform the techniques I have seen. Is that still creative then?

An example:

My sewn patch from last week. I knew I wanted so use it on some book case or something. Meanwhile I also know where to sew it on and that I want to embroider it in some way. But how? Then I sit in front of it and spontaneously come up with - nothing.

My strategy this time was:

Away with perfectionism !!

Because if we're honest, the patch already looks pretty good, with something embroidered on it it looks even more lively. We'll probably agree on that.

But how EXACTLY, i.e. whether stitch number 2 would have looked better with color number 5 than with color number 6, is ultimately of secondary importance.

And that's a corner where I can usually make a wonderful fuss and spend ages thinking about the question "How do I make this absolutely overwhelming?".

But how can we get out of this corner?

What helps us here is the story of the teacher from the pottery class:

The class goal is to make a cup.

The teacher divides his class into two groups: one group is graded according to how perfect their cup looks at the end of the project time. The second group is only graded according to how much clay they have used.

What is happening? Group 1 spends time discussing, planning and theories about cup shapes while group two rolls up their sleeves and produces cup after cup to use as much clay as possible. Say: they practice!

And of course, in the end, the cup of the group that has spent their time practicing is the nicer one. Logical. Otherwise the whole thing doesn't make any sense.

What can that mean for you and me?

Regardless of whether it is a cup or a patch, we can relax! Doggedness creates wrinkles and during this time it makes more sense to pay attention to mental well-being than to win the marathon to the perfect workpiece.

What do you think?

Love, Miss Violet