Lately, I have been stumbling across some of my old creative work, and have been rather amazed at how unafraid and free I was to create. Back then, it was almost as if the process itself and the sheer enjoyment of it all mattered more than the outcomes.
The experiment was the game. Not knowing what would transpire removed any preconceived notions of success. Art just unfolded, and with that, sometimes something remarkable emerged. I look back at some of my work and think, “How the heck was I capable of creating that?” Now I feel mostly empty and uninspired.
In some of my recent projects, I have found myself stealing some of this old work and repurposing it. Old photos, designs, writing, ideas. It has left me with the strangest feeling. I feel like a thief taking what was and making it what is. Almost as if I’m incapable of producing that specific thing anymore, so who gives me the right to steal it and use it in something current?
It’s quite silly, really. It’s still my work, so it’s not technically stealing. But somehow I am left feeling like I am stealing from myself.
So many experts have told us that we should cringe at our old work, because that shows that we’ve grown. I agree with that to a point. I certainly have some work I am less than proud of, but other pieces hold their own, even to this day. There is no shame in acknowledging that.
A true body of work takes a lifetime to build and may never be seen or appreciated. Repurposing old work and breathing new life into old ideas can actually be a good thing. Sometimes you create a piece of something that is a little out of sync with the timing of it all, and one day that piece slots in perfectly to a new masterpiece.
I’m sure I’ll look back one day and feel the same about some of the work I am creating today. And I might just steal a little more from myself with a perfectly clear conscience.
I think what makes a certain piece of art special is that it gets created at a time when so many things align in just the right way. That specific alignment never returns in the exact pattern. Pieces of it, maybe. Similar ideas, sure. But not the feeling, the passion, the thoughts or influences at that specific moment of creation. It is a snapshot in time. A creative fingerprint that can never be perfectly replicated.
The repurposing has also come in different forms. Photos become ideas. Ideas become writing. Writing becomes a song. A song becomes a video. I’ve seen some beautifully unexpected results simply by setting it all free and seeing where it lands.
So yes, I’ve decided to keep stealing from myself. Others might get to appreciate the new life breathed into my old work, or at the very least, I get to enjoy remembering that I made it and some of what I was feeling at the time. That in itself is a win.
