Post it without a picture if you have to

Hey there, world.

Yesterday, I read Steal Like an Artist, by Austin Kleon. I filled up six pages of notes and doodles in my notebook as my brain transferred the ideas I read into made-for-me inspiration and advice. The book rocks; you should definitely read it. But that's not what this post is about--this post is about being inspired, feeling the creative high positive ideas pump into your system, and then....not making anything, not sharing a piece of it with anyone.

It's 4:36 in the morning and I have a notebook full of ideas and a laptop with never-finished projects and a project room with the remnants of several crafts and planned but un-executed parties. I realized, daydreaming about all the amazing work I was going to create after this book gave me a kick in the pants, that nothing had really changed. I was still going to have a lot of ideas and never do anything about them, unless I actually did something about them this time around.

So, I wanted to write about how to do this, share some of the inspirational high. But I got caught up in ideas for a picture for the kind of post I thought was presentable to the internet. I looked through my phone's photo library, couldn't really find anything that would work, and then put the post idea on my list of post ideas. Which was basically consigning the idea to death by neglect.

Post me without a picture, my idea shrugged his little shoulders in my mind, and smiled at me hopefully. What's the worst that could happen; it doesn't have to be perfect, you know.

Smart little guy, this post idea in my head.

So here I am, writing about this experience. I don't have a photo, I don't have a clever way to make this post seem acceptable, or good, or worthy. It's certainly not perfect. But it exists! It's one more notch in the belt of WORK I've got to create if I ever want my creations to be as good as my taste. Let go of perfection and make things!

Let me tell a story from my past:

I lived in Korea as a missionary, and for 9 months had lunch at the same place four to five times a week. A woman named Ee Seung-Ah and her husband owned the restaurant, cooked the food, served the patrons. We became friends, I played with her children, she gave me trinkets and free desserts, we talked and cried and laughed together. When I left the country, she gave me a very personal gift (a book she loved as a child) and we exchanged contact information.

She wrote me an email, in Korean, and I responded immediately. I had learned to speak Korean by conversing with Korean people; writing was much more difficult and time-consuming.

She wrote me another email. I thought about the things I would say in my response, but felt overwhelmed by my inadequacies in the language. I put the task on my to-do list.

After some time, she wrote me a third email.

I never responded.

I always meant to.

Four years later, my husband sat down after church one Sunday and read an email from one of the families he had met during his own mission trip in Germany. He responded immediately. I told him about Seung-Ah and how much I missed her. How much I regretted abandoning her.

He told me to write a letter right then and there. Years after living in Korea. Now with even more limited grasp on the language. "Write it in English if you have to, just write it," he said.

I wrote.

She never responded.

I can't find her and I know I hurt her.

My perfectionism didn't kill an idea or a creative project; it let one of the most rewarding relationships I've ever had die.

So, my personal goal, is to go make things. Write letters. Share my ideas. Even before they're perfect, if that's the only way they'll come to fruition. I'd rather have a tangible attempt at the ideas I find valuable, than neglectfully file them away into oblivion, hoping for the day I can make them "perfect."

Do you have a book you want to write? Is there a cupcake business occupying your daydreams? Have you always wanted to design snowboards?

Is there a relationship you should nurture?

It might not be perfect, it might not be pretty. But I invite you to join me and just do it. Try. Just start writing. Make cupcakes for your next lunch meeting. Reach out to someone. Write a blog post. Post it without a picture if you have to.