Like A Toothless Fish

On making things

Something I tried to do this past year was to make at least one new creative thing every month. The only rule I had going into this was that they had to be creative projects other than the writing projects I was already working on. I am at my best when I keep busy, when I am making things. You know, idle hands and all that. Don’t get me wrong, slothful can be good; I love sloths. But there’s a certain kind of slothful I’m thinking of that is not helpful to me. All that to say if I keep moving, I’m okay! Like a shark, but without all the sharp teeth, without the instincts of an apex predator. I am a toothless fish that must keep moving to stay alive!

Some of the things I made this year were commissioned; some things I simply made because I felt like it—a way to pass the time, a way to learn something new. Sometimes making something is about figuring out a problem. Can I do this? How would I go about it? This is essentially how I ended up screen printing, making music videos, trying to make things out of wood. I get curious about how something is done, then I try to learn how to do it. Sometimes it sticks (screen printing), sometimes it doesn’t (working with wood: I cannot cut a straight line). But all that to say: the act, the process is as important—or more so—than the thing I’ve made.

I sometimes do screen prints just to figure out a technique or because I have an image in mind that I want to exorcise. Once I’ve done the print, I’ll sometimes decide that’s all I really wanted to do—just wanted to see if I could transfer the image I had in my head onto paper. And then I’ll recycle the print, maybe make something else out of it—like a notebook, which is something useful, practical! I like practical. I also like ephemeral: I enjoy making things that are not meant to last: a calendar, a notebook. Of course, there are those things that I make and sell. And I love when people send me photos of the things I’ve made—a print, a calendar—in their homes, on their walls, even in their bathrooms! (Before I knew it was faltering, my screen-printing exposure unit was creating mysterious, weird effects on some of the prints I made—including a sort-of fart cloud coming out of the butt of a figure in one print in particular. That one is now hanging in a fart-themed bathroom in my friend’s tattoo shop. You just never know.)

I’ve been keeping track of these things I made on a file called… “Things I’ve Made This Year”. There are seventeen entries—though I think I forgot a couple things. No matter. These things I made vary: I finished the artwork and logo for a podcast some friends are making, new screen prints on paper, wood (skateboards), and fabric (t-shirts, tote bags, and a hat!). I made a lot of notebooks out of recycled screen-printed test prints. I even made a music video, and a short-story video. I printed the word ‘LIBRARY on a bunch of things. I wanted to—but didn’t—include making a new exposure unit for screen printing. The reason I considered including it was because my approach to making it was… creative, though not necessarily in a good way. My wiring and soldering skills are subpar—but the unit does work. No more fart clouds. So that’s something.

On top of these monthly projects, I was also writing, of course. The manuscript of stories that I’ve been working on is due with my publisher next week. So is a short essay I wrote about writing. I like a deadline; it keeps me focussed! Once I submit my manuscript, I’ll wait to get notes back from the editor—and then I’ll dive back into it again. That’ll go on for a while; the book doesn’t come out until next year. In the meantime, I’m already working on another book and making notes for another besides. Idle hands, and all that.

I’ve started a list of things I want to make this coming year. Some are ambitious, some are less so. I’ll keep you posted.

Here’s to a happy new year.

IR