I realized, upon sitting down to write that this entry would be my last of 2022. That realization, and the outsized significance I gave to it (for some unknown reason), got me to thinking that I wanted to note something special to mark the moment. I decided to take a break instead. I went and made myself a coffee. Because as far as my work is concerned, the end of this year holds little to no real significance for me. So, if the year’s end isn’t important to me, what is?
Looking back, I realized that what I’m most proud of, and what is indeed important, is that I’ve managed to start leaning into the commitment I made to seriously pursuing this creative path. A fully-immersed journey that until this year, I’ve only imagined having. Creativity has always been part of who I am. If I ever listened closely, there it was, steadily keeping time under whatever I had going on – my architectural practice, my time with the city, and in my most recent experiences working in philanthropy. But, through it all, my creative self was always the sideman; never the star. This is what I set about changing this year. What I didn’t really know how to do was how to put my creative self in the spotlight, so to speak. What would that be like? And where would that lead? These questions are at the center of what I’ve began exploring this past May.
In his book, The Practice, Seth Godin speaks to the “poverty of intention,” in contrast to the power of consistency, writing “get the practice right, and your commitment will open the door for the market to engage with your work.” It’s this consistency to my creative work, my practice, that I’ve dedicated the past seven months to. One of the clearest examples of this for me has been writing. In July, I made a commitment to myself to journal my thoughts at least every two weeks. I’m proud that since July, I’ve lived up to this commitment. While I don’t know if this practice will open any doors for me, I do know that the writing has become easier. Ultimately, that’s the point. By making the commitment a practice, the practice has started to sustain itself.
I’m building my creative muscle. And that, to me, is valuable. I’ve always had enough ideas. But I’ve always seemed to conjure up more reasons to not consistently realize them. Now, by moving from intention to consistency, those ideas are becoming part of a body of creative work. Something I can share with others. Something special.
See you in 2023!