Analog Creative Practices That Still Matter
Not all creativity needs to be shared or optimized. Like, can we just make things without posting them? Please? 😅
Analog creative practices invite your hands into the process. Paper. Ink. Texture. Small physical decisions. It's like the difference between coding on a computer and actually building something with your hands. Both are creative, but one feels more tangible.
These practices slow you down in a way screens rarely do. They encourage play instead of performance. Like coding for fun vs coding for work. One feels different.
Letter writing
Letter writing combines writing with the physical act of choosing paper, writing by hand, and creating something to send. Like building a feature, but you're sending it through the mail.
It is creative because it asks you to make choices. What paper? What pen? What to include? These small decisions add up to something personal. Like choosing your tech stack, but for feelings.
Our letter writing event kit offers guidance for getting started. No dependencies required.
Zine making
Zines are small, self-published booklets. They combine writing, drawing, and design in a tangible format. Like a personal project, but you can hold it.
Zine making is accessible. You do not need special tools. You can photocopy pages. You can staple them together. Like building a simple website, but analog.
Zines celebrate imperfection. They are personal. They are shareable. Like open-source projects, but physical.
Collage
Collage invites you to work with found materials. Magazines. Old books. Scraps of paper. Like working with existing code, but visual.
You cut. You arrange. You glue. The process is physical and intuitive. Like refactoring, but with scissors.
Collage does not require drawing skills. It requires willingness to experiment. Like trying a new framework: you don't need to be an expert, just willing to try.
Journaling
Journaling creates space for reflection. It can be words. It can be drawings. It can be both. Like a personal log file, but prettier.
The practice is less about what you create and more about the act of creating itself. Like coding for yourself: it doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to exist.
You might explore memory boxes as a way to combine journaling with collecting physical mementos. Like keeping old project files, but meaningful.
Scrapbooking
Scrapbooking combines photos with writing and decoration. It creates a physical record of moments. Like documenting your project, but analog.
You do not need to be artistic. You just need to enjoy arranging things on a page. Like organizing your code: it doesn't need to be perfect, just organized.
What these practices share
What these practices share is tangibility. You can touch the result. You can return to it later. Like having a physical copy of your code. It feels different.
Analog creativity leaves traces. Those traces often become meaningful over time. Like old commit messages: they tell a story.
Why analog matters
Analog practices create a different relationship with creativity than digital ones. They are slower. They are more physical. They exist in real space. Like the difference between coding and actually building something.
This matters because it changes how you experience the creative process. You are not just creating content. You are creating objects. Like building a physical product vs building software. Both are creative, but one you can hold.
Starting your practice
You do not need to do all of these. Choose one that feels inviting. Like picking a new language to learn: start with one.
Start small. One letter. One zine. One collage. See how it feels. Like a "Hello World" project: simple, but meaningful.
If you feel drawn to slower, hands-on creativity, that pull is worth listening to. Like when you know you need to step away from the screen: trust that feeling.
The Snail Mail Club
The Snail Mail Club celebrates analog creativity. Each piece of mail is thoughtfully designed, combining writing, art, and tangible elements.
You receive something made by hand. Something that exists in physical space. Something you can hold and return to. Like getting a nice package, but regularly.