Point Taken

Greetings to all you newly charged conductors of curiosity! Last week, we played with static electricity; those invisible jolts that made us jump-scare, laugh, and maybe question the security of our doorknobs. Perhaps you built your own crackling experiments using your pullover, or tried to capture that fleeting flash on camera. If nothing else, I hope you were reminded that there’s a whole world humming just beneath the surface, waiting for the right conditions to bring it to life.

This week, we’re dialing the voltage way down on our creative nudge and turning our attention to something far less shocking but no less able to make their impact felt: the thumbtack.

It’s not exactly the star of the supply closet. If the thumbtack was a co-worker, it would be the one that’s been around a while and can tell you the way things used to be, even when you don’t ask. At home, you probably don’t remember buying them, but there they are, rolling around with spare keys, rubber bands, and a grip of Allen wrenches you can’t seem to part with. However, when needed, they do exactly one thing very well. Not unlike some people I’ve worked with.

Say what you will about the limited benefits of thumbtacks. In my thinking, it may be one of the few office supplies that passes the “name test” with perfect clarity. Thumb. Tack. The instructions are right there. Press with your thumb. It tacks things. No user manual required.

Thumbtacks remind us that the past exists in the present, in places where information is shared physically and publicly. Before everything became a digital post, there were thumbtacks holding up guitar lesson flyers, babysitting offers, missing cat posters; those yellowing notes with tear-off phone numbers curling at the edges.

Not everything we make needs to live forever in our feeds, polished and hash tagged. Some ideas just need to be pinned up for a while then taken down without fanfare.

Now it’s your turn. Find a thumbtack and nail one or more of these creative nudges to the nearest telephone pole:

Point of View: Create a small installation using thumbtacks on a corkboard, wall, or soft surface. Think big, act small. What does it become at a distance? Give it a title like it belongs in a museum gift shop.

Pressure Point: Hold a thumbtack gently between your fingers and notice the balance it requires. Firm enough to control, careful enough to avoid drawing blood. Now write for a few minutes about pressure. Where do you apply it in your life? Where do you resist it? Is pressure something you seek out, avoid, or only notice after the fact?

Pinned in Time: Move around your space freely—walk, gesture, stretch —then choose random moments to “pin” yourself in place, freezing mid-action as if a thumbtack has fixed you to that exact position. Try holding the pose to the point of discomfort. What does your body notice when it can’t adjust?

Punctuation Mark: Press a thumbtack into different materials like cardboard, a sheet of plastic, construction paper. Create a pattern, or just random jabs at the surface. Shine a light through it or hold it up to the sunlight. See how the pattern changes when projected on another surface. 

Sharp Tongue: Explore the idea of a “point” in flavor. Create a small bite of something with a sharp edge—citrus, vinegar, spice, or even a strong cheese. Let that one note define the experience. Write a one-line food review as a completely satisfied consumer.

Thumbtacks don’t hold everything together, but they do hold things up long enough for us to notice them. And sometimes, that’s all creativity needs.

So this week, make a point. Or several. And don’t worry if they’re temporary. That might be the point.

This column was written with the help of ChatGPT, a creative collaborator that sometimes works as a pointed critic, and sometimes helps me get to the point.