Hey, Reader!

There’s a green glue stick on my desk that is quietly changing my life and I'm loving it.

Six months ago, I conducted a tiny experiment; ripping images out of magazines and gluing them into a sketchbook.

I started in September. One page a day, for thirty days, as an experiment. What came out was colour and collage and something that felt surprisingly close to joy. I kept going. I couldn't stop.

If you're someone who used to create things and stopped, you'll know the specific grief of that. It's where one day you notice you haven't been creating for ten years.

For me it was art. I always knew I was an artist. Then it all slowly changed. I became a professional, a mother, a reliable person... and somewhere in that becoming, the part of me that just made things for the joy of it got quietly set aside. Not abandoned. Just on hold. Indefinitely.

Last June I attended the filming of Anne-Laure Le Cunff's course around her book Tiny Experiments. Watching her articulate the framework: commit to something small, consistently, with curiosity rather than pressure. I thought: oh. That's what I've been doing all along. I just never had permission to call it something.

It turned out that permission was all I needed.

This month, I'm running another experiment. Stamps cut from found images. One page per day. Fifteen minutes maximum. For all of May. And I'd love for you to join me.

3 ideas

1. The constraint is the point, not the problem.

Fifteen minutes sounds limiting. In practice, it's liberating. When you know you only have fifteen minutes, you stop waiting to feel ready. You just pick up the scissors. You don't have time to overthink, so you don't. The limit doesn't make the practice smaller, it makes it possible. What you can do in fifteen minutes a day, consistently, over a month, will surprise you... I know this from deep experience.

2. Creativity is less about making and more about noticing.

The most unexpected thing the September experiment taught me wasn't how to fill a page. It was how to look. When you're collecting found images and hunting through magazines, saving the birthday card you'd normally bin, pausing over the colour in the corner of a catalogue, you start to notice what actually catches you. What you're drawn to. What you find beautiful. That's not a small thing. That's a practice in knowing yourself. (I get this same feeling practicing yoga, too.)

3. The thing you're waiting for is permission. And you can just give it to yourself.

Most of us are waiting for something... the right time, the right space, the right amount of skill. What I've learned is that the waiting is the thing getting in the way. You don't need a studio. You don't need talent. You don't need to be in the mood. You just need a page and fifteen minutes and a willingness to let it be imperfect.

Done beats perfect, every single time.

2 loves

✦ The stamp cutter.

Also called a craft punch, is the tool that gives you a perforated edge, like a real postage stamp. You can find one for around £10–15 from any craft shop, and it does something unexpectedly magical: it turns any scrap of paper into a specimen worth keeping. A stripe of midnight blue from a paint catalogue. A peacock feather from a wildlife magazine. A line of handwriting from an old book. The perforated edge says: this is the bit that matters. I have become slightly obsessed.
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✦ The Ottegami sketchbook.

I have strong opinions about sketchbooks and this one has quietly become a favourite. The paper is 150gsm ivory (thick enough that nothing bleeds through) and it lays completely flat, which sounds like a small thing until you've spent years fighting a notebook that won't stay open. Dot grid, A5, a little elastic to keep it closed, two ribbon bookmarks, a pocket inside the back cover. It's the kind of object that makes you want to open it and use it. Get it here.

1 affirmation

The May experiment starts now: one stamp (or page) a day, every day, for thirty-one days. Join me over on Substack for The Joy Experiments and follow my own stamps as I go.

And hit reply and tell me: what did you used to make?

Have a joyful week ahead.

With love & curiosity,
xo, Louise 🫶

P.S. If stamps aren't your thing, do the experiment in whatever form calls to you. One tiny creative act, every day. That's the experiment. What will you create?

Spread the Love. Share with a Friend.

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