Why you can only connect the dots looking back on someone's creative path
All creators start from zero
I’m visiting a friend’s open garden, but, so far, I haven’t seen even a leaf.
Because I started where the gardener did.
With her dream and seed ideas.
All in her heart and mind.
Then drawn out as plans on paper.
I’m watching her walk us around her plans.
Explaining why a dry river bed was the best drainage solution.
And I’m trying to understand which direction is east and why the water drains to the top of the map.
And how, from this spot here, she knew she’d see the mountains in winter when the leaves had dropped.
Which was why that deciduous fruit tree had to be planted right there.
So many ideas to explore, puzzles to solve, and practical questions to answer.
A creative journey is like this.
It starts with nothing but an idea in the creator’s mind.
It doesn’t start with anything real. Or solid. Or any proof she can do it.
No portfolio, proving her talent.
Not in the beginning, anyway.
There’s just that insistent voice inside that will not be silent.
That demands expression.
That fuels her to keep going.
That becomes a blueprint.
And the work starts.
From idea to the real world
I'm enjoying the eclectic beauty the gardener has created over more than a decade.
It’s tempting to think everything unfolded according to plan.
But it rarely does.
In a garden, you take a step, then watch and see how things go.
Then get ready for another step.
As Vincent Van Gogh said,
Great things are not done by impulse, but a series of small things brought together.
You’re listening for the lessons that the soil, the wind, and the sun teach you.
What minerals are in the earth, and what weeds are not welcome.
Where the rainwater flows in a downpour.
Whether the soil stays in place on a slope.
What types of paths work well.
Which vegetables grow easily.
Where to place trees for shade in the summer.
Which trees lose leaves, and when in the winter.
What the leaf litter will do to plants living underneath.
What wildlife will come one night and strip your trees.
So, at each point, you risk making mistakes.
But you have to move ahead anyway.
So you need patience, trust, and resilience on a creative journey.
To know that, if a friend or expert can’t help, you’ll work it out yourself.
You’ll figure out the next stepping stone, place it, then place another.
And that will lead to a finished work, which may not be what you started out with.
Adapt or wither
This same process stalks every creative venture. Vision, adaptation, in small steps forward.
Whether you’re writing a play, building a house, or creating visual art, as a creator you embrace change.
You’re listening to that voice inside. And outside.
You’re open to learn. To experiment. To test boundaries.
William Shakespeare, for example.
Part of his genius was to adapt his craft to the social change in London at the time.
He began from nothing, as an unknown stagehand. And learned the trade, watching his peers.
And staging his plays.
Which were different, fresh, and enjoyed by his audience.
And Queen Elizabeth 1.
But rising to fame and becoming the queen’s court playwright brought dangers.
Shakespeare had to manage jealousy, royal intrigue, and scrutiny of his work.
His life was at risk if his play shone too bright a spotlight on controversial issues of the day. Or royalty took offence at seeing the mental health challenges of their ancestors.
So he switched from telling stories about royalty to safer subjects. And that’s how his comedies, fantasies, and romances were born.
His diverse legacy is the result of his reading the room and adapting to the needs of his time.
Profound insight and a pragmatic response mark his genius.
From zero to here on our terms
As creators, it can sometimes feel as if we’re starting at zero every day.
In a sense, we are.
We’re in that void, space, or gap where the idea sprouts.
And then the bringing it to life begins.
That’s the creative zero.
And with each creation, we’re also building creative muscle.
We’re exploring what works, what feels true, what sounds right. We’re finding the right word, the right colour, the right tone.
We’re making things.
We’re seeing how they’re received.
We’re taking steps and seeing our vision become real.
Seeing a blueprint come to life in the only way it can with what we have today.
We’re following the dot right in front of us.
Because it’s the only dot that could be there.
That’s why everyone tells creators not to compare themselves and not to look sideways to see how far their fellow creators have come.
Because we’re on a singular road. Our own.
And it’s only by looking back on our own journey that we’ll see how much ground we’ve covered.
From zero.
To here.
That’s the only gauge of progress that matters.
They’re the dots that connected and became the creative path that only we could walk.