This is Not Just a "Hobby"

I’d spent most of my life being told that writing or making art is “only a hobby”, something I do “for fun”, and is not considered “serious work” or to be taken seriously. Bear in mind, I was raised by parents from an older, more conservative generation who viewed work and career differently.

In my schooling years, I enjoyed art and writing, and had even envisioned being a novelist and a fashion designer at one point. Then I was told I need a “proper” job to make a decent living, and being a writer was not it.

Ironically, my career eventually landed me with a writing job in my late twenties. From there, it opened up years of other opportunities to pursue writing in many ways, including content creation.

With years already in the creative field, I continued to pursue making art and crafts on and off outside of work. But I didn’t take them seriously either, and invested less and less time and effort as the year passes.

Having lost my stable job almost two years ago, I realised I was given the opportunity to reset and think about what I want to do for myself. Of course, securing a stable income became a priority, and I did start a wee company of one, applying a more marketable and in-demand skillset, for that purpose.

However, I can’t help knowing deep down inside, I still want to return to writing and making art. And to make a living out of them would be wonderful too. It’s not too late, right?

I know, I know… I don’t need to monetise all the things I do in my spare time. I know that very well. That said, as a creative multi-passionate who desires stable income, I will and can apply whatever skills I have to good use where possible.

In recent months, I’d been constantly reminding myself that all this writing and art-making are not just “hobbies”, but can be valid means and efforts to earn a living too. If those skills can help with my situation in any way, why not?

I grew up being told that those were “for fun”, “not serious”, or just “hobbies” to enjoy during my free time away from my actual job. So I spent my adulthood viewing them as such.

Every time I pursue them and wanting to make some money from them, it somehow felt “wrong”. This was hard to shake off. I felt guilty for charging money worthy of my services and products of my own creation, despite spending hours, days, weeks and even months working on them.

It took awhile for me to accept that there’s value in all my efforts and time spent on them, not forgetting the thought and planning that went into them as well. If I choose to gain monetary exchange for those efforts, I shouldn’t feel bad about doing so.

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Every creative work begins with an inspiration or idea spawned in the mind. It’s birth so intangible, almost fleeting, but powers enough excitement and anticipation to get a person to do something about it.

However, it would continue to be invisible until the creation is realised. So there’s a lot of effort and time invested between the intangible stage to the tangible. Most people only see the end result without any inkling what has gone into it, and how much the creator poured themselves into the work. Not just time and effort, sometimes also blood, sweat and tears in the literal sense too.

Then there’s that bit where the creator begins to question everything. Doubts and Impostor Syndrome will kick in hard. Giving up becomes a tempting option, which I admit I had succumbed to it many times before.

Then people wonder, why bother? Why trouble yourself this way?

I admit it can be a vicious cycle – especially with creative work that is more personal, deeper, and honest. I’ll do it anyway because the reward, I feel, is greater than the sense of completion.

One does not need to be an artist or writer to be creative. Even a mathematician is creative, and I’m sure the jubilance felt is similar when they solved a particularly mind-boggling equation.

So why trouble myself this way? Because the sense of self-fulfillment is very satisfying, very personal. Other people don’t need to understand that.

This year, I am rekindling newfound joy in creative pursuits. I want to build something for myself with my writings, and my art and crafts. Sure, I do them for leisure and fun as well. I may not monetise everything, but they are certainly not “hobbies”.

The creation becomes my voice, my expression. How I share my joy, opinion, and magic with the world. My medium of communication and connection.

I am deprogramming my own inner narrative that the creative work I do for myself can be serious if intended. They can be fun and playful too. They are not mindless activities.

I see these as moments of practice and learning through trial and error, which could take years and likely a lifetime to nurture. If you’re someone who kept at it either for professional reasons or as a craft you earnestly pursue with diligence through the years… if you know, you know.

The consistent practice over time gets synthesised and ingrained, and eventually sharpens and refines it. This part is essential to improve any skill, and expand knowledge and experience.

I, for one, know all too well with the struggle of being consistent. It doesn’t always go smoothly. But I do my best to show up each time, even though I may not make much progress. Sometimes, I even failed in showing up. Then I’ll try again the next day.

Lately, I’ve been readjusting my routine, and I think I may have found a sweet rhythm I can stick to. Finally.

You don’t go from A to Z without going through B to Y first. You can try – or use cheat codes and shortcuts – but you will miss out on certain valuable learnings along the way to attain mastery.

There’s a difference between an exam where you spent hours studying and burning the midnight oil for it and with an open book exam, where studying is optional and you only need to be familiar with the book to find answers.

When you passed that exam with flying colours, tell me how different is the sense of achievement felt between the two efforts? Which experience actually earns you the knowledge and personal growth?

Which option would you choose if you want to be good at something?

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This Substack adventure of mine here was a pleasant start. Launching Andrealism: Open Notes and Long Conversations last year was somewhat nostalgic of my old blogging days in the late 90s and early 2000s.

The intention behind it was mainly to get myself writing again and share thoughts, ideas, and perspectives – usually sparked by actual conversations I had with people recently, or a thought that came about from something I noticed and got me thinking. There will be no articles about tips or how-tos here. The world is already saturated by them. Plus, I also create a lot of these content as resource for clients. I really want to write something else here.

Early this month, I also kickstarted a project that combines art, writing, and divination – the things I enjoy doing. The process has been fun and challenging at the same time, figuring out details like production, costs and budget, and how to pull it off with what I am capable of doing and how to work around limitations at present.

The last time I did something like this – creating a physical product – was in late 2021. The Pathfinder: The Triple Goddess Collection reading cloths was a whirlwind to produce after the pandemic lockdowns and all, but what a joy it brought!

It was a small batch creation (I still have some stock), and I’m happy to say, “I made this!”

Now, I’m nervous and excited about this new project. I suppose that’s a good sign.

I quietly love this phase of the process: the midst of pieces slowly coming together, and seeing the intangible becoming tangible in my hands, even if it’s just a rough test print.

It may just be March right now, but this whole creative journey so far is making me pretty excited to see how the rest of the year would unfold.

Andrealism holds essays on lived experiences, and making things. It also features my art and photography.

Thank you for reading and for your company.

~ Andrea

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