I’ve been trying something different lately — breaking down my creative work into smaller, more manageable pieces. I guess you could call it “bite-sized creativity”. It might seem obvious to some but to me it’s been a lifelong battle to try and separate the 100 ideas I have all at once in my head, and I’m finally getting to grips with it.
Many creatives, especially in the music production world, seem to have a problem with finishing their work, but I am the opposite. For me, finishing things used to be all consuming. Instead of taking breaks, exploring something else, or simply taking a short walk, I’d get into a hyperfocus-fixation and push through, symptoms screaming, head pounding, nerves affray. Tempers would flare, irritability would ensue and family life would get intense for my poor hubby and kiddo. Every project became a massive, overwhelming beast, that would inevitably take months to recover from, in which time I’d beat myself up for being “useless”. Not a very good cycle to get yourself in when you’re trying to heal from chronic illness, let alone keep a frazzled autistic nervous system happy.
Something had to change.
So this time, after years of refusing to do things differently I have actually started to do more not less, but LITTLE BITS of more.
Instead of hyperfocusing on my music desperate to get it finished —perfect, original done, sophisticated, intelligent. I started to embrace all my interests. I used to feel like I HAD to be a musician and other hobbies had to be put to one side. This was the only way I would be successful. This was the only way I could feel accomplished. But now I’m embracing ALL of it. But just a little at a time. Now I write poems when I feel the need, then when I’ve run out of words, I write music, take a photo, go on a walk, do a drawing.
I’ve erased that voice that’s been whispering in my ear for the last 30 years of my life that I need to specialize. If told it to eff off. I’m not going to specialise, I’m going to do it all —a little at a time.
So this week I made a video. There was no real intention behind it, it was just a cute video me and my daughter took a couple of weeks ago of 2 dandelion heads that looked like they needed a smile drawn between them.
I did a little research about naïve animation and found a great app called Rough Animator. I drew/animated a little smile on to my video and it it only took a few minutes - oh my gosh that felt good to create something so quickly with zero pain and lots of grins!
I then took a break for a couple of days before spending a few hours making some music. Again this whole process has had to be reinvented. I’ve changed from working in midi to audio - it allows for quicker editing and rough chopping —it’s allowing me to keep things more simple, plus is actually closer to some of the methods my musical heroes use.
I didn’t finish the song. It was really hard to allow it’s unfinished state to go into the animation but I reminded myself that plenty of musicians use happy accidents and glitches as part of their process. I took two shorter walks today instead of my usual longer one. Again it’s really really hard. I’ve been trying this for months but today I think with the fuel of the little mini projects driving me I was able to make the changes.
I chopped up the animation and put a simple glitch filter on it in Capcut. No fancy glitch editing and you can already see some happy accidents happening in time with the music - call it cheating but I don’t care! My nervous system is thanking me. I’m finding shortcuts, I’m embracing the naivety, and the tricks. And that was it. Nothing sophisticated — full of glitches, not perfect.
Just a few pieces over a couple of weeks, made in moments when I felt able, pulled all together in some kind of satisfying way that made me feel like I had accomplished something.
It’s more fun this way. It’s lighter. I don’t feel as crushed by the weight of the thing I’m making, because I’m not holding all of it at once.
The result isn’t finished. It might never be. But I’m not finishing it out of obligation anymore — I’m following the energy. And the thing is, when I don’t burn out so hard, I actually want to come back to it.
That’s the part I’m trying to trust.
I don’t know if it’ll ever be “finished.” But this way of working — small pieces, soft starts, gentle returns — feels more sustainable.
Maybe that’s the point: I made a thing. It’s not everything I imagined, but it’s something. And for now, something is enough.
