As a ‘maker of things’ my mind often wanders the dark corridors of creativity. Where do ideas come from? What does it take to bring an idea to fruition? What separates the professional maker of things from the ‘Sunday painters’? How do you learn to make things?

Looking over the blog posts from the past semester I notice myself juggling these ideas. I’d like to delve further and focus on that last question, how do you learn to make things? Or, perhaps more precisely, how does one become a better maker of things?

As humans we have an innate desire to create, to make our mark, to declare we exist. The ancient cave of Altamira testify to this, why else would our progenitors take the time to paint their handprints on the walls of a cave while they had much more significant things to worry about, like the saber tooth tiger that chased them that morning.  It is a declaration of existence and humanity.

As a professional maker of things, the challenge is harnessing the desire to create and ensuring that one’s creations are sustainable.

There is a perception, or perhaps assumption, that makers of things need a carefree, unpressured environment to actualize their creative potential. However, as my career evolves I believe that more often then not the opposite is true. The harrowing ‘deadline’ is actually a key to successful creation.

In this context, the structure of our program at the MDM fosters an ideal creative ecosystem. As students we can take risks and explore new paths yet simultaneously everything we do is framed by real world expectations, the industry projects. And we are lucky enough that industry in this case isn’t the evil monster crushing the dreams of the creative mind, but rather the entity that gives us the opportunity to put our creative talents to work.

As I learn new tools and my creative visions develop, I’m sensitive to the fact that I would not be as compelled to take on these challenges without the expectation and pressure of a real world situation.  In another context I’d drop the idea or abandon the project if I felt I didn’t have the resources. But in the real world, once a client has signed off on a concept, you don’t have that luxury; you have to adapt and be resourceful to get the job done.

Personally, my desire to improve my technical skills and the application of these learnings are driven by the need to deliver a product to our client. Often, I reflect on how nice it would be to spend my days ‘hacking and painting’ for a student project, without the pressure. But I definitely would not be pushing myself as hard if that were the case.

By no means am I suggesting that a creative practice must be anchored in industry, but rather that as I develop my practice the expectations of industry provide a necessary anchor for my learning and evolution as a maker of things.

Ryan Nadel is a first year student in the MDM program.