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10 Lessons on Creativity from 10 Years of DIYvinci

Writer: diyvinci
diyvinci
Sep 30
3 min read
Woman in glasses writes at a desk in a cozy studio with plants and framed art, focused on sketch papers and notes.

Ten years ago, I started DIYvinci because people kept telling me they wished they were more creative.


I never really understood that.


I would make something, a coworker would see it, and I'd hear some version of, "I wish I could do that."


And I always thought... why can't you?


At the time, my answer was pretty straightforward. Maybe people just needed an easier way in. A box with the supplies already gathered. A process they could follow.


Something that made creating feel less intimidating and more fun.


So I started a creative craft kit company.


I had absolutely no idea where that decision was going to lead me.


I didn't know I was neurodivergent yet. I wasn't thinking about disability or creative wellbeing. I didn't understand why creativity had always mattered so much to me beyond simply being something I enjoyed and happened to be good at.


I definitely didn't have a ten-year plan.


What I did have was a tendency to jump headfirst into things, learn as I went, change my mind, try again, follow strange ideas, build things that worked, build things that absolutely did not work, and somehow keep finding the next thing.


DIYvinci grew up alongside me.


And when I look back now, the biggest lessons I've learned aren't really about how to run a creative business.


They're about creativity itself.


About what happens when we lose access to it.


About the strange rules we put around it.


About the things we call failures that maybe weren't failures at all.


And about how different creativity looks when you stop trying to make yourself fit somebody else's idea of how it is supposed to work.


So for DIYvinci's tenth anniversary, I started writing down ten things the last decade has taught me.


1. Creativity is more personal than I understood

I always believed everyone could be creative. What I didn't understand was just how differently we experience it, access it, and need it.


2. Not every detour is a mistake

Some of the ideas that didn't last taught me more about where DIYvinci belonged than the ones that worked exactly as planned.


3. Losing access to your creativity isn't the same as losing your creativity

Sometimes the creative part of you is still there. The conditions around it have just made it harder to reach.


4. The process has to fit the person

Accessibility isn't just clearer instructions. Sometimes the process itself needs to change.


5. Sometimes creativity needs one possibility

A blank page can be overwhelming. One interesting starting point can be enough to send your brain in a hundred directions.


6. Unfinished doesn't mean unimportant

Not every project needs to become a finished piece to have taught you something, helped you, or mattered.


7. Your capacity changes, and your creativity can change with it

Creating differently than you used to doesn't mean you've lost something. Sometimes it means you've learned how to work with who you are now.


8. Be careful which evidence you use to tell your story

It's easy to count every unfinished project against yourself while ignoring all the evidence that you've been creating all along.


9. You're allowed to outgrow your own idea

DIYvinci isn't what I imagined ten years ago, and I don't think it was supposed to be.


10. I'm less interested in teaching people how to be creative and more interested in helping them find their way back to it

Ten years ago, I thought the question was, "How do I help people become more creative?"

Now I think the more interesting question is, "What happened between you and that part of yourself?"


That's probably the biggest thing these ten years have changed for me.


I don't think creativity needs one perfect process, one definition, or one correct way of showing up.


Sometimes it needs a different tool.


A smaller project.


A strange prompt.


Permission to stop.


Permission to start again.


Or simply another way in.


In future posts, I'll share the longer stories behind each of these lessons, including some of the things that worked, some that absolutely did not, and the experiences that changed the way I think about creativity now.


After ten years, I don't think I've learned how creativity is supposed to work.


I think I've learned just how many different ways it can.

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