Creating in a capitalist world
It's important to make your soul grow, and you can do it for free
I was poking around on Instagram this morning, seeing what it offered up on the “search” page (am I the only one who finds its guesses as to what I’d like far more interesting than anything else it wants to feed me?), and I landed on an excerpt from this delightful video of Ian McKellen reading a letter from Kurt Vonnegut to a group of high school students.
(BTW, Letters Live is amazing and you should absolutely let yourself fall down that rabbit hole sometime. You won’t regret it.)
Social media being what it is, I found this comment lurking near the top of the list:
Oof.
And yet… totally predictable. Here in 2024, everything is about economics, income, and survival. And let’s be real—survival is always pretty big on everyone’s list, as it should be.
Last week, I talked about lapsed creatives, and mentioned that having to feed the kids and pay the bills is just one of the many reasons people lose touch with their creativity. As reasons go, it’s a pretty good one.
Here’s the thing, though: creating doesn’t have to be big or difficult or expensive. It doesn’t even have to be time-consuming.
We tend to think that it has to be a big deal because, well, “creating” is kind of a big word. It’s a little intimidating (or a lot intimidating!). It feels like An Undertaking. And it comes with perceived pressure.
To be fair, there are creative pursuits that are more of a production than others. If you’re a painter, you have to have time to set up and clean up. If you play in a band, it helps to be able to get the whole group together. Same if you’re part of a dance troupe, or the cast of a play or musical. And if you’re doing any of these last few things, among others, your goal undoubtedly includes selling tickets to people who want to come see your show.
We forget that creativity can be small and easy, and it doesn’t have to pay the bills. It doesn’t have to include other people, even.
I love Vonnegut’s letter because it echoes an earlier quote of his that helps to make this point:
Go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.
Notice how quick he is to point out that you may not make a living, to that commenter’s point—but notice, too, that he immediately says, “They are a very human way of making life more bearable.”
Think about that for a second: a very human way of making life more bearable.
When you look at it that way, the act of creation is most definitely not a luxury. It’s a vitally important tool for survival, especially in our often unbearable capitalist age.
Then Vonnegut gives us a list of possibilities. Notice anything about the list?
Yeah, you’ve got it. Everything on that list is something you can do for free. Same with the list he gives in the letter. Most of the things on his list don’t even require any sort of supplies, and the one that does only needs pen and paper, which most of us have at hand.
Most importantly, he gives us permission to do it badly. It literally doesn’t matter how well we create as long as we do. (Ironically, giving ourselves permission to be bad at it often frees us up to do much better than we would have otherwise.)
Part of me wants to go back to Instagram and share this quote with that commenter, but I doubt it would make much difference. Several others, in the three weeks since that comment, have responded, but their efforts were met with this:
I can’t argue that our culture hasn’t become increasingly pay-to-play. It has. And there are a lot of ways to create that do take some money and even privilege. That’s indisputable.
That said, there are still plenty of things you can do for little to no money. Basic art supplies can be found at places like Five Below and will certainly do in a pinch, and maybe longer. Kids are masters at making stuff out of found materials, and we can all follow their lead. I bet you have some stuff just taking up space in your house that could easily be repurposed into something that will help make your soul grow.
We devalue free options in no small part because our capitalist society tells us that things that are worth something must cost something—exactly as our friend the commenter says. That makes sense when you consider that Spotify doesn’t make any money from you singing in the shower or dancing to the radio, just like the folks who make art supplies would prefer you to spend some money on their wares, too.
That doesn’t mean you have to do those things, or that your work is less valuable just because it didn’t cost you anything to create it. A few years ago, you may recall, “Make Art Out of Trash” contests were quite popular, especially in sustainability circles, and the whole point was to encourage people to think differently about what we throw away—a real “two for the price of one” on the value scale.
In fact… if you insist on creating in a way that’s free, you can view it as your own personal act of rebellion against “the system,” which sounds like a pretty good incentive to me. 😉
Having said all that, I’m putting on my Teacher Hat, and I hereby assign you Vonnegut’s homework for Ms. Lockwood’s class. Have fun with it, and let me know what happens when you do it!
Here's an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don't do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don't tell anybody what you're doing. Don't show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?
Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash recepticles. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what's inside you, and you have made your soul grow.
PS: As I plan my new course, I’m still looking to talk to some folks who are stuck creatively—who want to be making something but aren’t, for whatever reason. If that’s you or someone you know, get in touch!
YES. Thank you for making creativity less dire. I was surprised in reading Rick Rubin’s book that he encouraged a day job so you can be free to express yourself creatively apart from the levers of capitalism.