A Year of Making Things
celebrating our creative endeavors in 2023
Creative Possibilities/Issue #10
My original plan was to take a writing break for a few weeks but over the past seven days I’ve been trapped in a House of Covid and somehow I’m the last one still standing. With extra time on my hands I’ve been taking a look back at my year.
Join me on a brief trip through my Year of Making Things, 2023.
This year I found a quote that finally put words to something I’ve known in my bones for most of my 46 years.
It’s the joy of making something that wasn’t there just a moment ago. Although it’s true that there is nothing new under the sun, we each bring our own unique perspective to the things we make.
A few weeks ago our family went to a local art market just in time for Christmas shopping. After visiting thirty or forty booths, each displaying art prints or stickers or earrings made in a way only that specific artist could make them, my daughter said, “It’s so interesting to find out how different people see the world.”
Today, let’s set aside the struggles of being an artist: the comparison and doubts, the motivation that rises and wanes, the persistent wondering if anyone will ever really see your work.
For today, let’s just celebrate what we made in 2023! Here are some things I made and at the end, I’d love to hear about your own year of making things.
I made: a sketchbook habit.
Keeping a sketchbook has ebbed and flowed and sometimes stopped altogether through the years but 2023 has been a good year for my sketchbook habit.
I made: birds and other feathered things.
Thanks to the year-long art class that I took this year, I tried a bunch of new art mediums and each time, birds (and their friends) kept showing up.
Speaking of birds, I made: art that traveled from America to Europe.
(Again) Thanks to my year-long art class, I took part in an art card swap and ended up receiving art from classmates who live on the other side of America as well as in Germany and Holland, while my own art traveled the continent and across the world.
I made: art that explored my inner thoughts and feelings.
I don’t think of myself as an illustrator but over the last few years I’ve been learning how to do more than reinterpret an object in front of me. I’ve been learning how to translate my thoughts and feelings onto the page as well.
This quote by my art teacher inspired a look back at the different silhouettes throughout my life, not only my own individual body but the way my body has shared space or even carried other bodies over the past several decades.
When I compared my busy mind to a magpie’s nest in a poem, I played with images and words to try to capture the creative but also chaotic energy that takes up space in my head.
As I sit between the edge of my active mothering years and whatever is next, painting this image helped me explore the fear of my world getting narrower instead of wider as I move forward.
I made: a ‘zine.
A ‘zine is a miniature, folded book. This little book that I made doesn’t have any concrete, practical purpose in the world but holding it in my hands brings me such delight. It gives me hope that I can stick with a process that requires patience and multiple steps and see it through to the end. (You can see the pages of the ‘zine in a video I shared here.)
I made: poems.
I’m still practicing how to easily say ”I’m a writer” or “I’m an artist”, so I definitely don’t feel ready to say “I’m a poet”. What I can say is that I write poem-ish things, sometimes. I love the challenge of trying to get to the essence of a feeling or experience with the brevity of a poem. One of my poem-ish things was chosen to be shared on the Coffee and Crumbs Instagram account, which is a nice little cherry on the top for going wider in my creative endeavors this year. (This is not that poem.)
A Tangled Mess
My mind
is a magpie’s nest
bits collected and stuck on
with saliva and sweat
a quote here, a memory
there, the vine from
around my mailbox.
One might think
it’s a tangled mess
of trinkets and trash,
not worth a second glance.
In truth it’s a home,
where art and ideas
are born.
I made: a record of my time in nature.
Bike rides and trips to the lake with my kayak were anchors in the middle six months of this year. So much of my thoughts that eventually turned into newsletters were synthesized during my bike rides.
I made: this Substack newsletter.
As I said, this is the 60th newsletter I’ve written since last December when I first started Good and Beautiful Things. I can hardly believe that number. It’s scary to put my words and art out for the world to see and yet it’s been almost an entirely positive experience. A friend who has known me for a long time told me recently how much she enjoys getting these in her inbox, “The writing, the art, it’s all so you!”. I’m incredibly thankful for the way God nudged me forward into creating this space.
I would love to celebrate what you made this year! I hope you’ll share in the comments. And it doesn’t have to be something made with words or paint. Maybe you made a great Excel spreadsheet. It counts!
Thank you to my husband.
My husband has always taken my creative endeavors seriously and I’ve had his full support over the past year on Substack. He’s been my editor, my tech support, and my biggest fan. He’s also graciously allowed me to share some of his story along the way.
Thank you to my youngest daughter.
My daughter is my second editor and honestly, she’s a tougher critic than her Dad. But 99.5% of the time I agree with her feedback and her edits make my writing stronger. After a few months of reading my drafts she started giving me more positive feedback and I felt like I was getting a big “A” stamped on my paper. Thank you Clara and Matt for making it a priority each week to read my work and share your comments.
Thank you to my friends.
Thank you, Jennifer, for all of your encouraging words and for sharing your own wordplay this year, which in turn, spurred on my creative spark. (Plus, the chicken photos.) Thank you, Shannon, for inspiring this whole idea in the first place. And for being my friend and fellow word-lover for almost a quarter of a century!
Thank you to the writers and artists that I’ve connected with on Substack who encourage me and inspire me to grow. I won’t list names because I don’t want to leave anyone out but I hope you know who you are. And I’m meeting more lovely people here every day.
Thank you to each of you who have read, subscribed, and left comments.
Thank you for letting me know when something resonated, comforted, or encouraged you. I initially sent the first few issues to about twenty friends and a year later, 136 people have subscribed to this newsletter! Thank you!
If you know someone who might enjoy this please send it their way. I have some great ideas for 2024!
Blessings from the Guest Nest,
-Aimee
Aimee! you've done such a great job in the substack this year. It's fun to look back down the trail that you've retraced in this post! I am a huge fan of your work, I guess you know. :-)
May this coming year be filled with Good and Beautiful Things to light the way.
(and you can be sure - whenever you come up short, I'm always here with a chicken pic for you!!)
Keep on my friend!!
I love your artwork and your words, and I’ve loved finding a fellow writer in a similar life stage. May 2024 be a year of even deeper discovery of your true self!
This year I created my first ever oil painting, many art journal pages I love, and several pieces of writing I’m proud of.