It was July of this year, and as they often are, the idea was small to start, and I was cautious around it, not wanting to rush into it like I had rushed into so many ideas before. And so I waited and waited until I told myself I couldn’t wait anymore and went ahead with this new and exciting idea, dutifully applying myself to the shaping and building of when August hit, and with it a force that shattered my desire to do anything other than scream and cry and hold on and hold on and hold on.
Usually when something hard happens, or a series of obstacles present themselves in quick succession, I panic and drop everything. That thing? Nope, I definitely don’t care about it. In fact, I’m not even sure what you’re talking about—sure, I create stuff sometimes, but it’s not like I have a desire to actually keep doing it.
Choosing to wipe the slate clean in the face of a challenge is done with the hope of avoiding hurt. Hurt that comes from trying something new, something that doesn’t promise you anything other than an experience, an opportunity to wear that shirt you’ve always wanted to wear but you’re afraid that the color won’t suite you or that you’ll appear to have a confidence that is very far away and that in trying to build it back up, you’ll show everyone that you care a lot and maybe too much about the things that are cruel and unkind and that do not deserve the power that you give them.
I’m beginning to think that ideas rarely take shape on their own. That there’s almost always a story behind them—something to grab hold of and say yes yes yes this is interesting and painful and filled with hope, I think I’d like to spend more time with this thing that has paint splattered across the surface and glue stuck to the sides and dirt between the metal screws holding it all together.
Or maybe I want to get the colors just right and the pillows fluffed just so—and oh, that painting on the wall over there might be slightly crooked, let me fix that because I want to talk about this idea as I would with a good friend over coffee, allowing myself to be all giddy and bubbly and loud, over-explaining every little detail because I probably care a whole lot more than I am letting on.
So, good friend whom I’m getting coffee with, there’s this thing I’ve been working on for a few months now but haven’t really wanted to talk about because I’m scared and because things have been, as you know, a lot, but if it’s alright with you, I would love to share what I’ve been up to?
I could have made the name more nuanced and digestible, but instead: a home for creating is a community space and monthly membership that celebrates the process of creating more than it does the end result.
And yes, you already know that I had to build it out using Notion. It was the only way I’d be able to customize it as much as I did, and while I would normally have self-enforced rules around what a community space should be, with a home for creating, I built it as I would a room in my own home, cultivating it into a space I would want to spend time in. To light a candle and read in. Write in. Hold a workshop in. Invite a friend over to watch movies and eat popcorn in. A space to gather, make a mess in, tidy up, and come back into.
And while the intent behind it has always been to be shared, I’ve treasured how slowly I’ve been able to get to know it. To see how we fit together, move together, and make things together, but I’m also eager to see what kinds of conversations we will have, the ideas and projects that will come out of it, and how we’ll choose to create and share our own process alongside one another.
It’s hard to know how to talk about it without showing you the space itself, so here, let me pull it up: this is the main "room" (I’m updating it all the time with aspects of my own creative process!), and there’s the audio library, a book club, monthly digest, imagery to be inspired by, and a bulletin board guiding you through recent additions to the space as a whole. And, of course, there’s the individual pages that each have their own unique focus: experiments, voice-notes, videos, an archive, and further ways to connect.
From the beginning, my goal has been to make it as accessible as possible (both in cost and how the information is shared), and so I did my best to answer the questions I might have when looking to join an online community like this one, as well as being clear on my own boundaries and values when it comes to managing and tending to it.
I’m really so proud of how it’s come together, and I can’t wait to see how it continues to unfold and change shape, taking on iterations of its own.
Thank you so much for being here and for listening, your support is invaluable. Now, tell me about all the ideas and projects that you have going on in your world?
Talk soon,
Chloe
Now for: things I’m excited about!
Some of which you may already be aware of (re: the topic of today’s newsletter)
Personal projects ~ I recently wrote a few new pieces for my (unintentionally secret) library of personal oddities, an online space dedicated to better understanding, supporting, and co-conspiring with our human tendencies.
I started this section of my website back in June, and similar to a home for creating, it’s been a space where I have allowed myself to experiment with different mediums and be less restricted in how I go about sharing—like my very own home on the internet.
A home for creating ~ Within the journal section of a home for creating, the pottery diaries are being updated with snippets from my garage-studio, where I’m pulling inspiration from a variety of library books and messy notebook sketches to help me get started again.
I’m also reading and talking a lot about the book Little Rot, Akwaeke Emezi’s work is astounding and magnetizing. I can’t get enough of it.
Also within the journal section, I have been keeping up with the job-hunting diaries, which has been a curious experiment in how to go about finding remote creative writing work.
I love how playful this space has felt and how easy it is to just stop by for a little while, bringing with me a few thoughts on a book I’m reading or musings on the creative-process or creative-obstacles or an artist I found on YouTube that I’m completely obsessed with and am now bing-watching all of their videos (there seems to be plenty of room for all of it).
🫵🏻💪🏻