When the clock strikes "leap"...

Following signs from the universe to shift into courage

There is a TV ad campaign that has become a kind of sermon for me.

That seems like a pretty outlandish statement—even coming from a non-church goer like me. But I hear this sermon like a mantra nearly every day. And in the spirit of meta-narratives, the ad is, itself, about hearing something repeated over and over in your environment from the most unlikely sources leading you to action.

In my case, the universe is not repeatedly asking me what I plan to make for dinner, but demanding to know when I’m going to make any number of moves I’ve thought about making for years. When am I going to take a leap? A leap of faith, of courage, of action, of why-the-eff-not?

As I’m drafting this on my birthday, I’ve decided it is the start of (my) Leap Year.

What’s the Frequency Illusion, Kenneth?

The Baader–Meinhof phenomenon, or frequency illusion, is described as a cognitive bias where we notice something everywhere in our environment after we initially become aware of it. You may have experienced it when you hear of a new (to you) musical artist, or learn a new vocabulary word, or hear about some new phenomenon. Then it seems that now you hear the artist’s name everywhere and hear everyone use the term you only just learned and read everywhere about the phenomenon that you previously didn’t even know existed.

Now, in reality, it only seems the artist, word, phenomenon, etc. is everywhere because we’ve now been primed to notice and attend to it. But it still can seem like stars in the universe aligning or something.

A few months ago I wrote in my journal about taking a leap. The concept (go for it!) was not a major focus of the entry and I didn’t think much of it at the time. But then I saw the phrase and variations of it (now or never!) everywhere. Like this froggy taking a leap into the unknown without a care in the world:

Or the three different people in my life who didn’t even know each other who told me I should take a leap (what have you got to lose?) in the sense of being brave to try something I am hesitating to try. The third time this happened, I even took a screenshot of the text message.

These are just two examples. There have been many, many more.

“Here, I Made This”

There are multiple areas of my life where I’m committing to the Leap. One area involves becoming more brave about broadly sharing my creative work.

In Seth Godin’s book The Practice: Shipping Creative Work, he says the words “Here, I made this” are key to creative practice, “carry[ing] with them generosity, intent, risk, and intimacy” (p. 56). He breaks down each word in this important phrase:

“I” as in me… This is the work of a human…

“Made” because it took effort, originality, and skill.

“This” is not a wishy-washy concept. It is concrete and finite. It didn’t used to exist, and now it does…

“Here,” because the idea is a gift, a connection transferred from person to person.

I’ve written quite a bit about my adventures in making and my identity as a maker. I’ve given away to family and friends many of my projects—zines, collages, handmade journals and cards, linocut prints, etc.

I thoroughly enjoy the act of gifting things I’ve imagined in my own mind and created with my own hands. I also recognize that this kind of gift giving absolves me of some accountability and shields me from some risk. If I only give gifts away whenever it pleases me, to people who already know and love me, I’m not forcing myself to move beyond my creative comfort zone. I’m not opening myself up for feedback and critique from folks who may not know me IRL. I may be “connecting,” but only on my own terms and on my own schedule.

Starting this Leap Year, I’m changing that¹.

I’ve taken the leap to paid subscriptions for this Substack and will gift the outputs of my creative adventures this year to anyone who generously supports my writing here.

Boxes and Boxes of Girl Scout Cookies

The act of offering something to someone in exchange for money is not something that has ever come easily to me. As a Girl Scout back in the day², I would dream of the acclaim I’d get from selling the most boxes of cookies in my troop. And every year, I would end up with boxes and boxes of unsold cookies that had to be returned or bought by my parents.

I don’t understand exactly how paid subscriptions work here on Substack. If we are all supporting each other via paid subscriptions, and we have paid subscriptions turned on ourselves, doesn’t it just become an even-steven type exchange? And how could anyone possibly financially support all the amazing writers here on this platform who they follow?

I’ve been reading up on this. I know there is fairly widespread dissatisfaction about the way that this platform set up paid subscriptions and I recognize that over time the platform has turned more and more to one that favors folks who already have huge followings. Also from my reading, I understand what one is supposed to do to generate a large (paid) following. And I know that most of these things are not moves I’m likely to make.

I’ve decided that my model will be one of continuing to post on a monthly basis or so for a broad audience. The output from my making projects I will give as gifts, mailing them quarterly to paid subscribers as a thank you for financially supporting my writing work. That feels to me more aligned with where I am right now as a maker than setting up an online shop for my stuff. It also feels like a step beyond gifting stuff to people I already know.

Still, it could very well be that—like in my Girl Scout days—I’ll end up with shelves and shelves of zines, mini-notebooks, and other handmade items.

But taking a leap means moving forward with this model, regardless.

So here it is…

I’ve decided on four types of subscriptions:

• Monthly ($7/month)
  > Early access to select posts and full archive of posts

  > Thank you gift from my making adventures each quarter

• Annual ($75/year—discounted from monthly amount)
  > Early access to select posts and full archive of posts

  > Thank you gift from my making adventures each quarter

• Legacy Member ($175/year)
  > All paid subscriber benefits above
  > One personalized thank you gift from my making adventures

• Free
  > A one time thank you gift

I set up this form to collect addresses, as 99% of my thank you gifts will be physical, not digital, so sent via snail-mail. Please fill it out if you’ve subscribed and would like to receive a gift from me. If you are a free subscriber, I’d also like to send you something to say thank you so still fill out the form. (Please fill out this form even if I already have your address as this will help me know who is still interested in receiving mail from me.)

I’ll write more next time about the first few batches of gifts I have lined up: a couple of cool zines and several different designs of a mini-journal that I’m excited about. As I’ve said here recently, one of my main goals recently has been to actually use the cool supplies, materials, and equipment I’ve amassed over the last several months. This model of gift-giving quarterly projects to thank subscribers seems like an excellent way to hold myself accountable to that pledge. (By the way, you should know that despite my intentions to not get any new stuff, the other day I picked up some cyanotype printing solution that I am just frantic to try out to make gorgeous blue tinted art using the summer sunlight.)

I’ll ship gifts out on a quarterly basis. April 25 started the first day of the first quarter of my Leap Year, and I’ll get the first batch of gifts out in the mail by the end of June.

Leap Before You Look

So. I’m taking a leap. Not sure where this will go or where I’ll land.

I do believe that my leap in this area of my life—more broadly disseminating my creative output—will be a kind of blueprint for some other leaping I’ll be doing. I suspect that I’ll have to leap without having full information…maybe even without seeing exactly where I’m leaping to. I mean—that’s probably why it’s a leap and not a step, right? Anyway, I’ll share those adventures here, too.

In the meantime, whether you are able to support me financially or not, I appreciate you for being here. Thank you for reading my work and for holding my hand as I journey into the unknown.

1. And by “changing” I mean that I will not ONLY gift in the way I previously have. I’ll continue to gift projects to family and friends because I enjoy doing so.

2. Note that this was WAY back in the day—before troops would set up shop outside of big box retail stores or on fancy websites. We had to roam neighborhood streets—by ourselves, mind you, walk up to folks’ doors, ring the doorbell/knock, and if someone answered, make our sales pitch.