Collecting ideas to plant in the garden

And we're all running restaurants.

There are a few places where I'm able to collect ideas.

When I go on walks I often find them. Or during my morning coffee. And sometimes during the middle of the night (these ones are a mixed bag). I have a little document on my phone where I add all my thoughts, observations, and things I’ve read and heard. Maybe something I saw; a feeling I had. It's never obvious at the time while I’m capturing an idea whether it'll be any good.

Another fertile setting is staring out the window of a car or a train. It helps if I’m not driving. The car that is, not the train. I've never driven a train. Perhaps it would be ideal. If there are any train drivers reading, let me know.

The ideas I collect feel a bit like seedlings. When the idea hits you and you note it down, it’s a bit like planting it in your subconscious. When I go back to look at an idea from time to time, I can see if it’s sprouted. Sometimes it feels like it might be something, sometimes not. I'm tending to a garden.

Then as I save other ideas and tend to them, I notice connections being made. I'm cooking up a recipe and all these ideas become the ingredients. They cook slowly and meld together, mixing in my mind. Mixing with all the experiences I’ve ever had, all the things I've consumed and the lens through which I view the world. It all goes into the pot to simmer away.

I'm not always sure if I'm a good enough chef and that can sometimes hold me back from using an idea. In case I put it out there and Gordon Ramsey reviews it on Twitter¹, saying it looks like cat vomit or something. That's a cause for consideration. When you think you've got some truffles on your hands, you don’t want to accidentally pour BBQ sauce all over them. Or use too much salt or something.

Other times the idea is delicious enough to eat on its own. Maybe I’ve grown a fig or a capsicum and I can chomp it straight off the tree or out of the ground. Let the produce shine on its own. That's what the best chefs do.

One thing I saved recently was a comment I heard from comedian Pete Holmes where he was interviewing the author Stephen Pressfield. He said that it’s about trying to find out where an idea fits. Maybe the idea is meant to be a cartoon, maybe it’s meant to be an essay, or a painting. I like this sentiment because it allows you to provide the perfect outlet for that idea. And you let the idea shine by placing it where it's meant to go.

The opposite of that would be shoehorning an idea where it shouldn’t go. I think social media platforms do this. They force us to sacrifice our best ideas into a predeterminded format. I read a story a few years ago about how David Byrne's dad was an amateur painter and if he found a picture frame he liked, he would saw off part of the painting to fit the frame. This is how I think platforms change our thinking. They encourage us to waste our best ideas. We cut them down to size to fit the frame.

This is a seedling I planted a few years back: When I learned about the whiskey brewing process, I discovered that if you pull the whiskey out of the barrel too early, it’s actually moonshine. Ideas are like this too. Sometimes we're making moonshine when we should be aiming for whiskey. Is this microblogging?

Here’s another version of the anology: Being a creative and sharing work online is like having a restaurant and sending out dishes from your kitchen. Farm to table. You’ve plated up and tweezered some tiny greens on top. ‘Service!’ Twitter and Instagram, being the shit waiters they are, forget to take the food out. Or they refuse to take it to the table shown on the order. Then you look out on the restaurant floor and notice that TikTok is serving everyone Snickers bars with whipped cream and heroin dusted over it. People are loving it obviously and who can blame them? I bet Snickers bars with whipped cream and heroin dust tastes amazing, but I'm too scared to try it.

I'll stick with the stew which is simmering away nicely.

I've used a few ingredients in this post. Stuff I’ve grown over a few years and it feels good to finally use it. I started writing this because I looked in the pantry and realised I had all the ingredients. I felt inspired and figured it was about time I had a go at making that stew.

1. I know it’s called X now but it feels ridiculous and we all know it’s actually Twitter.