I often go through a cycle. I get excited about making something, I think and dream about it, but when it comes to actually doing the thing, I hesitate. I procrastinate. That inner voice says, I’m not skilled enough. I don’t have enough time. I can’t make it perfect. I’m not ready.

So I abandon the project, and pivot to something new. And the cycle repeats.

When I do dive into a project and complete it, it’s because I’ve silenced the inner critic. I say, “fuck it” and just do it. I give myself permission to make something imperfect. I say, “no one will see this.” I don’t have to share it on Instagram to get likes.

Because the truth is, embracing the act of making is inherently worthwhile. It’s a source of learning and discovery. Self-discovery.

“Move on” means letting go, of perfectionism, of the need to feel skilled or confident, and even of the need to enjoy every moment of the process. The process can feel frustrating, especially when I’m doing something I’ve never done before. And that’s OK.

The joy of creating is often a lie. Yes, I feel a lot of joy when I’m making something. But I also feel everything else. Boredom. Frustration. Disappointment. It’s all part of the package.

What’s helped me is not getting fancy. I do the plainest and most obvious thing I can do to get the project done. I recently made an assemblage box, and the first step was to make the box. I found some 4-inch molding, cut 45-degree angles with my chop-saw, and glued it. And old piece of 1/8th inch wall panel became the back.

I was tempted to figure out how to add a glass front. I would have needed something to cut a dado or groove. Something I haven’t done before. Plus I would need extra tools. It could have stopped me dead in my tracks, but I let it go. This box won’t have a glass front. Maybe the next one will.

By making and moving on, I discover unexpected insights, often emotional or intuitive insights. Sometimes I learn what kind of art I actually want to make, which is often different from what I thought at the beginning. Sometimes I find out that my frustration wasn’t about the art at all. It was about something else going on in my life, and the act of making surfaced it. Sometimes I stumble on a new technique or shortcut that I never would’ve found if I were still stuck in planning mode.

My mantra is “Just start, don’t think”. I borrow the “don’t think” part from Bradbury. Thinking is the enemy of creativity he said.

The result of making it and moving on is I become more productive. I’m creatively fulfilled. I’m slowly gaining skills. Every piece I finish is another notch in my accomplishment journal, proof that I showed up.