Six Candles Later: What a Month of making Taught Me

Six Candles, a few unexpected results, some remaking and a little more clarity about the kind of creativity I want to explore.

One last week of making

The final week of October was about giving candle-making a few more attempts before wrapping up this month’s study. I still had some wax, colours and a couple of moulds left, so I decided to experiment with a few different combinations rather than make more of the same.

I tried two tilted-striped bubble candles, one with dark green, white and yellow, and another with dark blue, light brown, white and grey. I also returned to an idea I had attempted earlier in the month: a layered jar candle with purple, orange, yellow and white. The first attempt hadn’t turned out quite as I imagined, so I decided to melt it down and try again.

This time, the result was much closer to what I had pictured. I was particularly happy with how the colours came together, and adding the little succulent shapes on top gave it a lovely finishing touch.

By the end of the month, I had six candles, each with a different combination or finish. Some turned out better than others, but I enjoyed experimenting with the colours and seeing how an idea in my head slowly became something I could hold in my hands.

The little satisfaction of getting it right

There was something particularly satisfying about making the layered jar candle again. It reminded me that not every first attempt has to be the final one. Sometimes, trying again with a slightly different approach can make all the difference.

I had kept all the candles unlit throughout the month. They had been sitting there as finished objects, and I hadn’t really thought much about what they would look like once they were used.

Today, I finally lit them.

And that was the whole new level of satisfaction.

The colours, the little pools of light and warmth they brought to the room made the experience feel different from simply looking at the finished candles. After spending so much time making them, seeing them actually being used felt like a lovely way to bring the month to a close.

It was a reminder that sometimes the enjoyment of making something doesn’t end when the making is done.

Enjoying something doesn’t mean you have to continue it

One thing I’ve realised this month is that I genuinely enjoyed making candles. I liked experimenting with colours, imagining different combinations and the satisfaction of creating something with my hands.

But I also realised that enjoying an activity and wanting to make it a regular part of everyday life are two different things.

Candle-making requires quite a bit of preparation. I couldn’t simply open my sketchbook, sit down and spend fifteen minutes experimenting. I needed to gather my materials, melt the wax, manage temperatures, work with colours and wait for everything to set. Each attempt needed some planning, and when something didn’t go as expected, it sometimes meant melting the wax again and starting over.

None of this made the process less enjoyable. In fact, learning the techniques and figuring things out was part of the experience. But it did make me realise that candle-making might not be something I can return to frequently.

It also gave me a clearer understanding of what I want from these monthly studies. I want to explore practices that leave room for curiosity, but also ones that I can revisit in ordinary moments, without needing to plan an entire session around them.

Perhaps candle-making isn’t quite that practice for me.

And I think that’s perfectly alright.

Sometimes, trying is better than wondering

There are so many things we think about trying. We save ideas, watch other people do them, imagine how we might feel doing them ourselves and sometimes keep putting them off.

I think there’s a certain value in actually giving something a go, even if it doesn’t become a regular part of your life.

Before this month, I was curious about candle-making. I could have continued wondering whether I would enjoy it, whether I would be good at it or whether it was something I wanted to pursue. Instead, I gave it a month, tried different techniques, made mistakes, remade things and found out what the experience was actually like.

Now I know.

I don’t necessarily need to keep making candles to appreciate what I learnt from making them. Nor do I need to turn every new interest into a hobby or something I have to get better at.

Sometimes, it’s enough to be able to say, I tried this, I enjoyed parts of it, and I discovered that it isn’t quite for me.

There’s always time to try something new, but there’s also value in knowing when you’ve explored something enough.

A different kind of making in November

For November, I’m moving from wax and wicks to watercolour.

I’ve been wanting to explore painting, but this time I want to approach it a little differently. Rather than focusing only on learning to paint beautiful pictures, I want to explore watercolour as a creative practice and see what else it can become.

One of the things that draws me to it is how easily it can fit into an ordinary day. A sketchbook, a few paints, some water and a little time are enough to get started. I can return to it whenever I have a few minutes, whether that’s at my desk or somewhere else.

I also want to explore ways of taking something painted and giving it a place in everyday life. Perhaps a painting can become more than something that stays inside a sketchbook. It could become a little mood card, a useful everyday object or something that communicates a feeling without needing many words.

I don’t know exactly where this month’s study will take me yet, and that’s part of the appeal.

October taught me that not every practice needs to become a permanent part of our lives. November will be an opportunity to explore something different, with fewer materials, a little more flexibility and plenty of room to experiment.

One practice, one month, full attention.

See you in November.

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The Candle I Had to Make Twice