Community as a Part of Creative Living

You feel it. I feel it. Community feels both scarce and like something people are desperately clinging on to. It is crucial at this height of the loneliness epidemic with only more uncertain days ahead of us. Yet, how do we find the communities we feel at home in and what does it mean to be a part of a community?

Creative Living: More Than Just an Artistic Practice

Drawing Room was never just an art space. At its core, it’s about building a broader community through creative living. Creative living is a philosophy of expansion, getting out of your comfort zone, and pushing the limits of what you thought you could do—which we find to be much easier with the support and company of others. That’s why we have a space for it. Although, you’re probably already engaging in creative living through community in more ways than you realize. Think of an early 20th century French salon throwing groundbreaking ideas around through conversation. Think of a good yap session with your friend over brunch (the one that convinced you it was time to start a podcast). Think of hosting a dinner party where the preparation, seating arrangements, decor, menu (and god forbid the theme!) all demand creative energy! Think of all the games that force you to exercise your imagination like Cards Against Humanity and Charades. 

I had the honor of attending our writing instructor, Rachel’s, first-ever “Uncorked Narratives”―a workshop that combines storytelling with wine and food. It truly felt like a dinner with friends full of conversation and laughs (and some heavy emotions as well), but you could feel that electric zing of creativity in the air. That’s the magic of creative living—it thrives on vulnerability, receptivity, and the willingness to let a conversation wander.

But what is community, really?

Some would say it’s just a group of people living in the same area or partaking in the same hobby, or perhaps, a warm, fuzzy feeling evoked by likeminded individuals recognizing your life experience and/or good qualities.

Yet, is that all there is to it? A feeling of fellowship? A degree of separation? I can’t help, but feel they fail to capture the grit required to find and keep community. Fellowship is the honeymoon phase while true community is a marriage that is often messy, demanding, and worth every ounce of work you put into it. For much of my life, I thought all I wanted was that feeling of fellowship, that it would just find me one day, that the block party invites and cookouts and aunties sipping tea in the sunroom would miraculously appear. I hadn’t realized the work it took to nurture these things. Even more so, if you told my 20 year-old self about the work required, I probably would’ve just waved you off and said I’m fine without it.

As a socially awkward kid who constantly moved from city to city growing up, I was used to fleeting relationships and being the odd-one out. I started closing myself off to communities preemptively because I assumed they would close themselves off to me. Sure, that taught me how to be independent and retain a sense of self, but I never stopped desiring that sense of belonging. New York, with its bustling population, has taught me so much about working with other people and finding my place in the world. So while it feels like we lose 10 cookouts a day with each American generation, here are a few tips I have picked up when it comes to nurturing our communities.

Show Up (Yes, Actually)

Community means showing your face consistently. Think about how the forced proximity of going to school along with sports and clubs made making friends and belonging to a  community almost mandatory. As an adult, it can be hard to simulate that same feeling of kinship even if you work a traditional 9-to-5. Becoming integrated into a community can sometimes feel rude because you have to “bulldoze” your way in (A.K.A. making sure you become a familiar face). Community doesn’t build itself, it takes people coming together to place one block on top of the other. 

Good news is that consistency doesn’t mean everyday. Start off with the schedule that works for you and make sure it’s a place you like cough i.e. Drawing Room cough. Take it at your own pace. Remember, best friends are rarely formed over night—just keep adding one new memory at a time, even if that memory is a simple “hi.” Whether you know it or not, your consistent presence already makes you a vital part of the community. 

Embrace the Mess

Community is not a 24/7 kumbaya. Humans are messy creatures. If we want to grow together we have to be willing to see each other through our hardships and weaknesses. I recently watched the movie, One of Them Days. The scene that struck me the most was the rent party SZA and Keke Palmer threw on to raise money for their apartment, how the entire community showed up for them even on a last minute basis. Community means lifting up others, even when it’s tough. Other examples of showing up include calling a loved one you haven’t checked on in a while, lending a shoulder to cry on, and going with a friend to an event they’re nervous about (whether it’s celebratory or fear-inducing). 

The examples I listed off are ones we all probably know about already. Yet nowadays, there is such an emphasis on setting and building boundaries in the wellness sphere, I sometimes worry that we’ve missed the point. Boundaries are not meant to be a barrier between two people, but something that brings them closer together through clear expectations. I have seen so many people use boundaries as an excuse to cut people off after a single mistake or as an excuse to not show up in a connection. They become points in which people don’t want to question their uncomfortability. If I only listened to my boundaries that are born out of fear and defensiveness, I would never grow, would never learn how to work through conflict and connect with the people I love at a deeper level because of it. I have lost people important to me because I chose to be alone in my comfort zone instead of having the hard conversation, which probably would’ve cleared up any misunderstandings.

I am not saying to forego your boundaries. I am saying to set them with intention and that yes, there will be people who blatantly disrespect them and as a result, don’t need to be given your time or energy. However, it’s also important to have an open mind and consider the idea that not every faux-pas is made with malicious intent, as well as the idea that people can change, that sometimes it’s worth working things out. 

We also don’t need to be best friends with every single person in our community. We don’t vibe with every person, and that’s ok. In Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower, we see a range of characters living within the same walled neighborhood during apocalyptic times. Many of them have differing beliefs and life philosophies; they butt heads; some of them just plain-out hate each other, but there is still this thread of respect, this understanding that I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. They prioritize collective survival and a shared cause over any differences. 

It’s understandably difficult to toe the line between self-preservation and showing up for others. It’s easier to choose one. However, it’s almost comforting to know that as I am accepting the “weaknesses” of others, they’re also accepting mine. There’s a mutual trust that we'll both show up in our strengths when the time comes. There’s a level of imperfection in community and in humans that has to be accepted—the same way a level of openness to imperfection is needed when crafting any type of art. When we “mess up” in art, we work through it by retracing, course-correcting, and trying again. Sometimes our “mess ups” end up being the best part of the piece. In the same way, you can’t expect any existing community to be perfect in every way possible. In the words of Dua Lipa, “I'm not interested in a love that gives up so easily… When it hurts, we don't even think to cut it off.” Being in community means setting aside petty gripes, being there when others need you, holding each other accountable, and showing up to the town-hall even when you know Todd is gonna be there (or especially when Todd is gonna be there).

Be a Shapeshifter

As amazing as having a community can be for our sense of belonging, everything comes with its limitations. I am both surprised by how many different archetypes can be held within a community, and how easily a group of people can turn into an echo chamber. 

No single community can hold all of you. And that’s good. Belonging to communities that explicitly support your identity is just as important as belonging to those that seemingly “go against” it. It can be as simple as joining a run club (despite the fact you despise running) so you can be surrounded by people who stick to routines, prioritize their health, and are committed to steadily working toward their goals, hoping that some of that good juju rubs off on you. Being a part of different communities is like having a party friend and a hiking friend, or when you choose to go to Mom for certain things and Dad for others. You don’t have to lean on a single community for everything. In fact, having multiple communities offers you a more holistic support system. 

This is something we keep in mind as Drawing Room expands. Our goal for each location is that they reflect the community they’re in—their needs, wants, and passions. Even though every location will be a part of the larger Drawing Room network and mission, they will all be slightly different. Visitors won’t necessarily have to choose between the two either, instead finding something in each one that speaks to them. 

The Bottom Line

I too am still learning about what it means to be in community, which is alright and maybe even the point. When it comes to human connection, we are all in a constant state of learning—learning how to love, be loved, and be there for one another. So be easy on yourself as we all fumble our way through personhood. You’re here. You care. That’s enough to begin.