To Create Something

When you're making something that, in theory, anyone could make, what matters is an overwhelming amount of at least one of these: speed, attention to detail, or persistence.

And in the long run, perhaps all three.

Because if anyone can make it, somehow you have to turn it into something no one else could have made.

Or maybe, if you think about it, almost everything that exists today was once something anyone could have made.

Little by little, or feverishly,

with an astonishing amount of time and effort, while people around them worried and wondered, someone kept making it faster, more carefully,

more relentlessly, until it became something no one else could make.

At least, that's the suspicion with which I find myself looking at so many one-of-a-kind creations today. Even the ones that have become so ordinary we hardly notice them anymore.

Of course, I'm only talking about those moments when you're looking outward,

thinking hard, pushing yourself, and saying,

"Alright. Let's do this."

Thank you, as always, for reading.

These days I make many things with the help of AI. But I don't think the real question has changed.

To create is to keep creating.

To begin is to keep going.

Okay?