I am probably the last person who should tell anyone they don’t need another hobby.
I like making things. I like learning how to make things. And yes, I have accumulated plenty of supplies along the way.
For me, scrapbooking is a good example. I used to do a lot of it. I loved putting the pages together, playing with paper and photos, and figuring out how all the little pieces worked together. I don’t really scrapbook anymore, but I don’t think of all that time as something I started and then quit. It led me somewhere else.
Holey Book
Eventually scrapbooking turned into art journaling and junk journaling, which gave me a whole different way to use a lot of the things I already loved about working with paper. I didn’t know that was where I was headed when I started scrapbooking. I was just making something I enjoyed.
There are people who can walk through an art supply store, admire everything and leave empty-handed. I am not one of those people.
So when I say you don’t need another hobby, I’m saying it with some experience. You probably don’t. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t spend a Saturday afternoon learning how to make something you’ve never made before.
When Did Trying Something Become Such a Commitment?
Kids are really good at trying things. Give a kid some paint and they paint. They don’t stop first and wonder whether watercolor is going to become an important part of their life. They don’t research whether they have enough natural artistic ability to justify buying the paint. They just want to see what happens.
Adults have a harder time with this.
We want to know where something is going before we begin. If I learn embroidery, am I going to keep embroidering? If I try cyanotype printing, what am I going to do with it afterward? Where will I keep all the supplies? Am I even creative? What if I’m not very good at it?
Reverse Applique Monogram Crew
I hear versions of these questions at Big Raven Farm, and I understand where they come from. Most of us already have enough things competing for our time. The last thing we need is another activity that starts out fun and somehow ends up becoming another obligation.
But it doesn’t have to.
You can spend an afternoon making something and decide that one was enough. You can try a project, enjoy every minute of it and never buy a single supply when you get home. You can also make something truly terrible and laugh about it through dinner.
Or maybe, like scrapbooking did for me, it leads you toward something else you never would have found if you hadn’t tried the first thing.
You Are Allowed to Do Something Once
I think we’ve gotten very good at turning things we enjoy into things we should accomplish.
Start walking and pretty soon you’re tracking steps. Start reading and there’s a challenge for how many books you should finish this year. Make something people like and eventually somebody will tell you, “You should sell these.”
Maybe you don’t want to sell them. Maybe you don’t even want to make another one.
That happens all the time at our retreats. Someone chooses a project because they have always wanted to try it. Someone else chooses one because they like the colors. Another person sees what somebody across the table is making and suddenly wants to know how they did that.
Maybe we could just try something because it looks fun and worry a little less about what we’re going to do with it afterward.
You Don’t Have to Be a “Creative Person”
I’ve had plenty of people come to Big Raven Farm telling me they aren’t creative, sometimes before we’ve even started. They’ll look through the projects, point out the ones they love, and then almost immediately explain why they probably won’t be very good at them.
But then we sit down and start.
I show them what to do, they ask a few questions, and pretty soon they’re making something. Usually there’s a point when they stop worrying so much about whether they’re doing it right. They start choosing the colors they like, changing little things or figuring out how to fix something that didn’t turn out quite the way they expected.
By the end of the weekend, they may still tell me they aren’t creative. That’s fine. I’m not trying to convince anyone to start calling themselves an artist.
They were curious enough to sit down and try. That was all they needed.
This Is Why I Love Pick Your Projects
Our Pick Your Projects retreats are probably where I see this happen most.
Before the retreat, everyone chooses up to three projects from our list. Some people know immediately what they want to make. Others go back and forth for a while. Sometimes a choice seems to come down to nothing more complicated than, “Ooh, I like that one.”
That is a perfectly good reason to choose a project.
Then everyone gets here and the interesting part starts.
The project someone was most excited about may not end up being their favorite. Something they chose almost as an afterthought might become the thing they don’t want to put down. Occasionally someone discovers that they really, truly do not enjoy a particular technique.
I consider that useful information too. At least you discovered it here instead of after ordering $200 worth of supplies.
If you decide at home that you want to try a new craft, it can become a project before the project even starts. You need supplies, except you don’t know which supplies because you’ve never done this before. So you start researching. Twenty minutes later you’re reading reviews written by people with extremely strong opinions about tools you didn’t know existed half an hour ago.
Eventually a box arrives. Then you discover you forgot something, so another box arrives. Now you need somewhere to put all of it.
I know this process very well.
At Big Raven Farm, you can skip that part. The materials are here. The tools are here. We show you how to get started, and you get to see what you think before you commit a closet to it.
What You Take Home Isn’t Always the Project
I love choosing projects for our retreats, and I love watching people make them. Seeing someone figure out a technique that frustrated them twenty minutes earlier never gets old.
But after hosting these weekends for years, I also know the finished project usually isn’t the whole story.
A lot happens around those tables.
People start talking while their hands are busy. Someone asks the person next to them where they’re from. Another conversation starts at the other end of the table. Before long, people who didn’t know one another yesterday are comparing what they’re making, helping each other figure something out and laughing about something that has nothing to do with the project in front of them.
Then Darin makes dinner, everyone moves to the table and the conversations keep going. The next morning there’s coffee and breakfast, and eventually people wander back toward the studio and pick up where they left off.
Somebody might head outside for a walk on our two-mile trail. Someone else might do some yoga. Another person might stay exactly where they are because they’ve finally gotten to the part of their project they’ve been waiting for.
The projects give the weekend somewhere to begin, but they aren’t the only reason people remember it.
Maybe You’ve Never Thought of Yourself as Someone Who Goes on a Creative Retreat
I’ve written before about why women need retreats and why they actually work, and I’ve also written about why creative people need unstructured time. I still believe both of those things.
But there’s another person I don’t want to leave out.
Maybe you see pictures from one of our weekends and think it looks like fun, but assume everyone else is more creative than you are. Maybe you don’t have a craft room. Maybe you haven’t made anything in years. Maybe you like the idea of coming here but don’t really think of yourself as someone who goes on creative retreats.
When I look around the studio during a retreat, I don’t see a room full of artists. I see people doing different things.
Some have been making things their whole lives. Some haven’t. Some work quickly. Some will spend an hour deciding between two colors. Some follow every direction exactly. Others start changing things almost immediately.
It makes for a pretty interesting table.
You Might Not Need More Stuff
I’m pretty confident most of us don’t need more stuff.
Maybe what we need is a little more freedom to try something without deciding what it means or what we’re going to do with it afterward.
There is something nice about being a beginner when nobody expects anything from you. You can ask the obvious question, start over, change your mind or make something a little wonky and decide you like it better that way.
And while you’re doing that, your attention gets smaller for a while. Instead of thinking about twelve things at once, you’re looking at what’s directly in front of you. Maybe the biggest decision you need to make for the next ten minutes is which color goes there.
Sometimes those ten minutes turn into an hour without you noticing.
That’s one of the nice things about doing this at Big Raven Farm. You’re not coming here to sit at a table for a two-hour class and then pack everything up at 4:00. You get to leave your project where it is and come back to it later.
Maybe you wander into dinner and stay at the table talking afterward. The next morning, you grab some coffee and eventually make your way back to the studio. If the weather is beautiful, go outside. If you want to move, there’s the trail and the yoga studio. If it’s chilly, bring your slippers because those old farmhouse floors will remind you what season it is.
Eventually, you find yourself back at the table.
There’s something to do, but there’s nowhere you need to hurry.
What If You Accidentally Find a Hobby?
Of course, there is always the possibility that you try something here and love it.
You might go home and order embroidery thread. You might start looking at plants differently after making cyanotypes. You might decide you absolutely need to make another version of whatever you made here.
I cannot be held responsible for that.
But you also might not. You might take your project home, put it somewhere you can see it and never make another one.
Scrapbooking eventually led me to art journaling and junk journaling. Something you try here might lead somewhere too. Or it might not. You might make one thing, have a great weekend and decide once was plenty.
A year later, when you look at what you made, maybe you’ll remember the person who sat next to you, the conversation at dinner, the thing that went completely wrong and made everybody laugh, or the Saturday afternoon when you got completely absorbed in something you had never done before.
I think both are pretty good outcomes.
Come Try Something
If you’ve been looking at a Big Raven Farm creative retreat but holding back because you don’t really consider yourself crafty, don’t let that be the thing that stops you.
You don’t need to arrive with experience, and you don’t need a plan for what happens afterward.
Choose a project because you’ve always wanted to try it. Choose one because you like how it looks. Choose one because you have absolutely no idea how it’s made and you want to find out.
Then come spend the weekend with us.
Take a look at our upcoming Big Raven Farm retreats and see what makes you curious.
If you leave with a new hobby, great.
If you leave with one thing you made and a really good weekend behind you, I’d call that pretty great too.