🤔 Why Do We Create?

Recently, I’ve been thinking about this question quite often, and I find it really intriguing, so I’d like to try answering it. One of the joys of writing a blog is that it gives me a space to explore these abstract and interesting topics. Also, the process of writing helps me clarify my thoughts on them (though it often turns into a thousand-word essay before I know it). Without this blog, I might still have a few ideas, but I wouldn’t have developed them into a complete essay.

Defining “Creation”

Let’s start by roughly defining what “creation” means here. The kind of creation I’m referring to is any form of art that humans engage in: composing music, painting, dancing, writing, photography, pottery, metalwork, filmmaking, and so on. What makes something a creation is that its artistic content or form differs from others. For instance, a novelist writes within the genre of the novel but produces stories unlike any that have come before. Or perhaps, in the future, a genius might invent a new literary genre that is neither novel, poem, essay, nor play,1 and gain recognition for it. As for the process, creation involves using skill to express one’s thoughts and emotions. Tools like AI can be used, but only as assistance and never as a replacement for human skill, thought, or expression.

So, by this definition, I don’t believe AI truly creates, because it has neither emotion nor thought. At most, AI can produce, but it does not create with awareness or intention.

The Existence of this Question

Interestingly, we never ask children this question: “Why do you create?” When a child picks up a crayon to draw, it feels perfectly natural. We don’t ask, “Why are you drawing?” Instead, we are more likely to hand them more paper and crayons. We don’t ask, “Why are you playing with clay?” We might even join them in building a little castle.

But as they grow older, crayons are replaced by pencils, and drawing papers, homework sheets. Some parents begin to ask questions like, “Why are you still drawing instead of doing your homework?” In such an environment, children gradually learn to see drawing (or any art form they love) as secondary to academic achievement. Even if they don’t consciously think so, for students who attend regular classes (as opposed to art or music programs)2 in schools, most of their day is spent on general subjects. Even though they want to create, they can only do so in their free time. When they reach adulthood, few people can afford to make creation their full-time job. For most people, when they get off work, they are occupied by family and other obligations, and creative activities slowly fade from their lives.

When we, as adults, begin to ask, “Why create?” it already indicates that we’ve drifted away from the innocence we once had as children. After all, children never ask themselves, “Why do I want to draw?” For no reason at all, they draw and sing whenever they want. Moreover, they would not worry about whether they’re good enough to do so. As we grow up, we start to evaluate whether creation can bring money, status, or recognition. If it doesn’t, we decide not to bother. Some people hold back out of fear. Thinking they lack talent or skill, they feel they are not qualified to create. Others simply don’t see the meaning of creation and feel their lives are already fulfilling enough. And of course, there are those whose lives are already difficult, who are too busy surviving to have the time or energy for art.

Even so, I believe there are both rational and emotional reasons that can encourage us to take heart and begin creating again.

My Answers

  1. Creation helps us live consciously. In an age dominated by social media, our minds are flooded with AI-written texts and emotionally charged content that leaves us angry or drained. We live passively, consumed by information. Creation, on the other hand, requires awareness: to feel, think, and express intentionally. Just as physical strength must be trained through exercise, mental clarity must be cultivated through creation. Those who use creative work to train their minds enter a positive cycle of perception and reflection, leading to a more conscious life. For me, writing is the best example. Writing articles slows me down and forces me to think, instead of passively letting others’ opinions fill my head. Moreover, writing a diary helps me organize my emotions and thoughts from the day. In the process of choosing words and structuring sentences, confusion gradually gives way to clarity. Once my thoughts are ordered, I can live more calmly and transparently.

  2. Creation reminds us that life is more than mere survival. As mentioned earlier, some people feel too burdened by survival to create. But isn’t that exactly the closed loop of “living just to survive”? The problem often isn’t the lack of time; it’s the unrealistic standard we set for what counts as “good.” If so, lower the bar. Choose an art form you feel most comfortable with, and start by completing something small. The harder life feels, the more we need something to remind us that life is not only hardship. If we have to go through pain anyway, why not make something beautiful out of it? That’s not a bad deal, right? When I was writing my thesis, I felt as if my entire life had shrunk down to just that paper. I was living in survival mode, and it was frightening. Then, somehow, I had the impulse to compose music. As I wrote, I began to feel a little better. Not much, yet that small improvement helped me endure that difficult period.

  3. Creation allows us to face ourselves. In everyday life, we often see only the tip of the iceberg of who we are. But in the process of creation, because we must constantly search for ideas and feel things more deeply, we begin to see our deeper layers beneath the surface. I often discover new sides of myself while writing. Sometimes I think, “Ah, so this is what I really believe!” or “This isn’t what I originally thought!” It’s a strange but wonderful feeling. Creation is like a mirror that reflects your inner image, allowing you to resonate with your deepest self.

  4. Creation brings a different kind of joy and fulfillment. Ordinary hobbies, like sports, can achieve some of the benefits above, but not all. Exercise, for example, doesn’t necessarily help us understand ourselves better. Its physical effects also fade over time; if you stop for a while, you lose your fitness. By contrast, creative works, if preserved, can last for a long time. Perhaps it is this sense of eternity, along with the effort invested in creating a work, that brings a deeper level of contentment and joy.

Closing Thoughts

Everyone has some degree of artistic potential. The difference lies in which area it manifests and how much of it we choose to cultivate. It’s not the size of the seed of creativity that matters, but whether we put it to use and help it grow stronger and more abundant.

So, let’s begin creating together. 🎨✨🎹🖌️✍🏻


NB: This article was first published in Chinese. It was later translated with assistance from ChatGPT, edited by me, and published in English.


  1. Unlike English literature, which has poetry, novel, and play as three main genres, Chinese literature has poetry (Shi 詩), essay (Sanwen 散文), novel (Xiaoshuo 小說), and play (Xiju 戲劇) as four main genres. ↩︎

  2. In Taiwan, many high schools have specialized classes for arts, music, or sports, where most students share the same focus. ↩︎

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