I can only consider what a monkey might feel when they discover something they've done but have since forgotten. Does a monkey continue on with their lives assuming that someone else did it, or do they pause?
With the few activities that monkeys engage in, I can't imagine that they have forgotten about the things they may create. However, humans… every day we express ourselves without a concern in the world.
With this plethora of expression, a database of creativity we’ve produced, what do we do if we stumble upon something we've created but can't quite recall?
There is a moment of strangeness as memories of performing the action, or perhaps gathering the materials for the endeavour flood the mind… “Did I really do this?”
If you've read that quote before, I'd be sceptical, because it was a comment left on a video I uploaded to YouTube in the beginning of 2023. I was just speaking to the camera about creativity and reviewing your work. And a day later, Fanger's comment surfaced and struck the nail on the head. What nail exactly I have no idea. But he’s hammered something in there that’s got me thinking.
I am astounded by what being present enables me to create. Whether it is a letter such as this, or a photograph I’ve captured. I know I did it, but I don't recall the specifics; so I have this hazy sensation... that someone else did it.
Did someone else create it? Do we put an element of ourselves in our jobs? And I don't just mean the 9-to-5 labour we all do; I also mean work like this letter – the words you’re currently reading. The work we set aside time for and want to carry out. For no other purpose than to finish. Are we different people? Have we changed since the work was created?
Depending on the time frame, both of these could be answered with a yes. Reflecting on a piece you made last week affects you differently than a piece you made last year.
This is why I make it a priority to write something every month. Having a collection of recorded thoughts or ideas provides me with something to consider over time. And I can only revisit something after it has been created.
As much as these letters are for me, now. They’ll serve a greater purpose for me, in the future. That excites me more. When I decide to re-read, I will discover what may have been missed initially.
This is why we create work. It fulfils a current purpose, but its greater purpose is yet to be discovered. That’s incredibly difficult to foresee – but that’s the beauty, that’s the risk! You can’t guarantee the work will be useful at all. But if you don’t try, you don’t know.
Because we are perpetually changing, growing, and learning, the work we produce is a reflection of our current selves. The paintings we create, the photos we take, and the letters we compose. This is why I've titled this publication Deeper Documents. Yes, they delve "deeper" into an idea. However, these words contain something intended for a future self. Re-reading one of these letters will impact you differently depending on your headspace or life stage, and you will take from it what you need, at that time.
I am certain that at least one individual (other than myself) finds value in these, and that justifies the time I spend writing.
This ‘concept’ of review requires less exploration than it does consideration. Review your work – what does it say today?
Create work so you can keep the cycle going.
Stay safe, and pass-it-on.