Hey friends, Chase here

Austin Kleon is back on the show, and this conversation is exactly the kind of reminder every creative person needs.

You probably know Austin from Steal Like an Artist, Show Your Work!, and Keep Going, the books that have helped millions of people rethink creativity, sharing, influence, originality, and what it actually means to make things in public.

But Austin's new book, Don't Call It Art: 10 Ways to Create Like a Kid Again, goes somewhere even more fundamental.

It asks a question that feels especially urgent for creators, entrepreneurs, artists, writers, photographers, parents, and anyone trying to make meaningful work in a world that wants to turn everything into content:

What if the way back to your best creative work is not becoming more serious, but becoming more playful?

That question matters because most of us have made creativity too heavy. We have wrapped it in identity, pressure, productivity, platforms, metrics, perfectionism, and the fear of being judged. We get stuck asking whether we are real artists, serious writers, successful creators, or legitimate professionals. We worry about the noun before we do the verb.

Austin's message is simpler, deeper, and more freeing:

"Don't call it art. Don't worry about being an artist. Forget the nouns. Do the verbs. Just make stuff."

That idea is the center of this episode. We talk about what kids can teach us about creativity, why play is not frivolous, how to build the conditions for your best work, why attention is your most valuable resource, and why some of the most important ideas in your life might come from goofing off.

This conversation is about loosening the grip. It is about getting back to the part of you that makes before it judges, explores before it explains, and follows the energy before it knows exactly where the work is going.

Why This Conversation Matters Right Now

We are living in a strange moment for creative people. On one hand, there has never been more opportunity. An individual with a laptop, a camera, a newsletter, a sketchbook, a phone, a point of view, or a weird little idea can reach people directly.

That is extraordinary.

But it also comes with a cost. The pressure to turn every interest into a brand, every hobby into content, every project into a product, and every creative impulse into a strategy has never been stronger.

We are constantly being asked to define ourselves:

What do you do?
What is your niche?
What is your platform?
What are you building?
How are you monetizing it?
What is the plan?

Those questions can be useful at the right time. But when they show up too early, they can suffocate the very thing they are trying to organize.

Austin's work reminds us that creativity begins before identity. Before "artist." Before "writer." Before "photographer." Before "entrepreneur." Before "content creator." Before the nouns, there are verbs.

Drawing. Writing. Walking. Noticing. Building. Playing. Collecting. Tinkering. Making. Sharing.

Kids understand this instinctively. They do not sit down and ask whether what they are making fits the market. They do not wonder whether they are allowed to call themselves artists. They do not freeze because the thing in front of them might not be good enough.

They simply begin.

And in that beginning, there is a kind of wisdom most adults have forgotten.

What We Explore in This Episode

Why kids can be some of the best creativity teachers because they make before they judge, label, or perform.
How to reconnect with the feeling you wanted as a kid, not necessarily the exact childhood you had.
Why play is not the opposite of serious work, but a form of creative research and development.
How to create the conditions for creativity through time, space, materials, and permission.
Why tools should feel more like toys if you want to stay curious and experimental.
How phones fracture attention and why protecting the edges of your day can change the texture of your life.
Why hobbies matter and how bikes, music, golf, drawing, and other forms of play can return us to ourselves.
Why "don't call it art" can be liberating for anyone who feels trapped by labels or legitimacy.
How to use jealousy, disgust, and frustration as creative information instead of letting them turn into bitterness.
Why people pay attention when someone truly believes in what they are doing.

The Core Idea: Forget the Nouns. Do the Verbs.

The fastest way to get unstuck is often to stop asking what you are and start paying attention to what you do.

That sounds simple, but it is one of the biggest traps in creative work.

We get obsessed with identity. Am I an artist? Am I a real writer? Am I a serious photographer? Am I a professional? Am I successful enough to call myself this thing? Am I allowed?

That kind of thinking can freeze you before you even start.

Kids do not have that problem. They are not trying to become "artists." They are drawing. They are building. They are making noise. They are inventing stories. They are throwing materials around and seeing what happens.

Austin's point is not that craft does not matter. It is not that ambition does not matter. It is not that we should abandon discipline.

It is that the living center of creativity is action.

The verb comes first.

Make the thing. Move the pencil. Open the notebook. Pick up the guitar. Ride the bike. Take the walk. Make the zine. Shoot the photo. Write the sentence. Start the weird little project that begins with, "Wouldn't it be funny if…"

That is where the energy is.

Play Is Creative R&D

One of the big tensions in this conversation is the voice many of us carry around that says play is not practical.

That voice says:

You have responsibilities.
You need to make money.
You need to be serious.
You need to have a plan.
You need to stop messing around.

Austin's response is that play is not the opposite of serious work. Play is often what makes serious work possible.

He talks about play as research and development. Any healthy company needs R&D. It needs space to explore, test, wander, fail, and discover things that cannot be found through pure efficiency.

The same is true for a creative life.

A lot of us start in explore mode. We are curious. We are trying things. We are learning. We are following our taste. We are discovering our voice.

Then, if something works, we shift into exploit mode. We repeat the thing. We build a career around it. We systematize it. We professionalize it. We optimize it.

That can be useful. But if you stay there forever, you eventually run out of juice.

You need space to explore again.

That is what play gives you. It returns you to the part of the process where you are not just producing, but discovering. And in creative work, discovery is everything.

Create the Conditions, Then Get Out of the Way

One of my favorite parts of this conversation is Austin's simple equation:

Play = time + space + materials.

That may sound almost too simple, but it is profound.

When I look back at the most creative seasons of my life, the pattern is obvious. I had uninterrupted time. I had a place to go. I had the right materials around me. I had enough structure to begin and enough freedom to be surprised.

That is what we often give kids when we want them to create. We give them a table, some paper, some markers, a chunk of time, and permission to make a mess.

Then we grow up and deny ourselves the same basic conditions.

We say we are blocked, stuck, confused, or uninspired, but often we have not created an environment where anything could actually emerge. No time. No space. No materials. No quiet. No room to tinker.

The lesson is not complicated, but it is easy to forget:

Set the conditions. Allow the work to happen. Get out of the way.

That is not laziness. That is not indulgence. That is how the good stuff gets a chance to show up.

The Best Ideas Often Come From Goofing Off

I have said this before, and I mean it: so many of the best ideas in my life have come from goofing off.

Not from trying to optimize. Not from grinding. Not from forcing. Not from staring at a blank screen and demanding genius.

They came when I was tinkering. Playing. Walking. Talking with friends. Making something that had no obvious point. Trying something because it felt fun, strange, or impossible to explain.

Austin and I talk about this because it is one of the hardest things for ambitious people to accept. We want the path to be linear. We want effort to equal outcome. We want the best ideas to come from the most serious hours.

But creativity often does not work that way.

The mind needs room. The body needs movement. The soul needs a little nonsense.

Goofing off is not always avoidance. Sometimes it is how the deeper intelligence gets a chance to speak.

Tools Should Be Toys

Austin says something in this episode that every creator should sit with:

Tools should be toys.

That does not mean your tools are unimportant. It means the best tools invite you into a state of play. They make you want to touch them, try them, misuse them, combine them, push them, and see what happens.

A sketchbook can be a toy. A camera can be a toy. A guitar pedal can be a toy. A bicycle can be a toy. A cheap notebook, a box of crayons, ...