Holy wow, friends. These are pulsing moments of stARTistic anticipation.
A brand new year a blink away…clean slates…fresh ideas…new journals from Santa…new world craziness to terrify us into action. It will be glorious, but it may not be easy. We might have to rip some paper.
So first, deep inhale. We’re going to work our way into the bigness of the moment.
Remember, I promised you an update from that time I was stuck in the back seat on the way home from visiting my husband’s home town, New Madrid, Missouri. I started some stuff on the long drive and wrote THIS POST. As promised, here’s how it’s going:
I started 13 things and finished eight of them, ranging from a hamster pillow to a windshield tour through my college town of Columbia, Missouri – things the world definitely needs. (I don’t have a hamster, but I had some cotton bolls from the side of a southern road just after cotton harvest. And I had a car full of my offspring who moan hilariously when I regale them about my youth. Art supplies and inspiration burning a hole in your pocket are as good a reason as any to start something.
I’ll take you into the new year with luscious lessons that I accidentally learned from two of these 13 starts.
1. Making paper and workshops
2. Learning Spanish
I know, I know…why should you spend precious time on Becky-specific stARTs when you’re chomping at the bit to get into YOUR OWN NEW STUFF? Hang with me. The point is not REALLY papermaking or Spanish, the point is building your startistic glory in two glorious ways:
1. Start teaching something you know.
2. Start learning something you crave
First, making paper (but really teaching and making meaning.)
In my backseat article, I started a workshop to teach papermaking. Starting it right before your eyes, I wrote:
“Working title: Now We’re Gonna Start Shit. I’m stealing this from a social media post I made after the 2024 election. I sent it to my creative girlfriends who were mad and mopey about the election results.”
This start was a luscious tiny success! I indeed held two paper making sessions in my studio, and I indeed FINISHED dozens of sweet little creations.
By deciding to START in this public way, I did TWO irretractable things:
1. I expressed the idea to myself and gave it a name, and
2. I told someone (YOU!) about it, so the odds of me finishing increased exponentially.
Paper making is one of those things that anyone can do with a few simple tools that they likely have around the house. It doesn’t take talent or money, or make a big mess. No one is going to ruin their clothes or their manicure.
I knew if I could get a few people there they would leave happy – with something new they put in the world.
I sent out a group text to nearby friends. As I expected, a lot of people said they’d come, and a few people actually DID. They made paper, they made supportive girl energy, and they made conversations that left us all feeling nourished and badass creative.
Look, you can almost feel the creative sparks whizzing by!
And look at their first paper creations! (One renegade stARTist ignored my instruction to keep the first piece plain; she slipped in some jhzuhz when I wasn’t looking.)
I made hot tea and snacks, and nobody touched it. Nobody asked for wine. They were consumed by learning and creating.
Other good stuff came of it…unintended consequences, if you will:
1. I cleaned my studio. (Clean being a relative term.)
2. I refreshed my skills with a couple of short YouTube tutorials, to make sure I remembered the process correctly and had the right supplies on hand.
3. I re-fell in love with papermaking, right before Christmas. So, some lucky loved ones received handmade, upcycled cards and gifts!
4. I got to know new friends a little better! Paper making is a great way to loosen up a perfectionist or neatnick. And to OUT them, if they’ve been masquerading as loose, super chill party girls at happy hour. Papermaking starts with pulverizing perfect machine-made paper trash and crafting it into a rough, freeform, texture fest.
Papermaking lets you make pulp out of old trash and make it into something beautiful. If that’s not a metaphor to ring in a new year, I don’t know what is.
Here you go. Godspeed.
So. Let’s talk about YOU and 2025.
• What do you know how to do that you can teach others…simply, joyfully?
• What did you do years ago that you’re craving to re-learn?
• What creative activities would be more fun with company?
• What if you start the year by rekindling your love for a skill by sharing it with someone you like? It checks all the happiness and personal growth boxes.
Do you know how to grow tomatoes? Juggle? Bake a carrot cake? Code? Build a birdhouse? Speak Spanish? These are all things I want to learn in the coming year. (I’d offer to be your first student, but that might get weird.)
I’ll write about the Spanish lessons in the next week or two. Mantenganse al tanto! (Stay tuned!)
Until then, make 2025 the year your start some s#!t! Treat yourself to a feast of new interests and treat the world to the things you already know.
Come to my house when you're here and we'll make carrot cake. :)