every issue of the Journal, after the final check of periods and commas, I take a deep breath and leaf through the pages to survey what has been wrought. In putting a magazine together, as in artmaking, one always hopes that the separate components together will yield more than the sum of their parts. Invariably, what begins as an abstract theme takes on a life of its own.

It’s always a mystery how, when you enter into a creative process, the right things, even those you didn’t know you needed, fall across your path. And sometimes they bring forth surprises that you could not have predicted at the start.

For example, a common thread running through the text was a notable number of words associated with pleasure—words like fun, freedom, joy, delight, discovery, love. Whether provided by artists discussing their work or writers describing it, those words confirm that creative activity is among the most rewarding of human experiences.

Also connecting many of the articles were references to open-ended dialogues with materials, coaxing their expressive possibilities. In the search for a meeting of mind and matter, the play of imagination is essential. In fact, creative work is often called “serious play.” It is interesting that “playing” is a term for the work of musicians for whom rapport with an instrument is critical. At its best, creative play leads to the attainment of a state of being, an illusion of timelessness, now known as “flow.”

Given the positive effects of creative activity, one might expect to see everybody grabbing for it. But the creative ease that is natural in childhood often needs a jump-start in adults. In a culture dominated by standardized logos and passive entertainment, how does one access the creative fountain fed by his or her unique combination of DNA, life experience and skills? How does one follow inspiration to the depth of a universal source? And how does the artist make public the newness that only he or she could produce?

Since creative activity is not limited to making objects, we addressed these questions from several perspectives. We sought not only the viewpoint of the maker, but also that of the interpreter and dealer. Chunghie Lee and Heather Allen share insights from explorations in the studio and classroom, while Michele Fricke offers a glimpse of how the artist’s finished work becomes the curator’s raw material. Jean Schulman tells of an “Aha!” experience with clay that set the course of her life, while Teliha Draheim discusses the need to extend creative thinking into the marketplace. Thanks to Jack Lenor Larsen, who called our attention to Priscilla Snyder, we were able to include her amazing bags and original approaches to sales.