I love writing software. Ever since my junior year in high school, when I first discovered the magic incantations that bent computers to my will (mwa-ha-ha-ha) I've spent countless hours experimenting with programming languages, algorithms, frameworks, and everything related to them. I've written a ray tracer in Ocaml, a logic game for Palm Pilots, a CoffeeScript framework for demonstrating maze algorithms, a library for modular composition of complex SQL queries, a word-search puzzle generator, an L-system parser and interpreter, an HTML5 maze game, a uniform tiling generator using Wythoff constructions, a Prolog-inspired logic engine in Ruby, an NPC generator for D&D 3.5 (which was *modest cough* rather popular once upon a time), and quite a few other odds and ends.

But as much as I love writing software, there is just something about making a physical artifact that software development lacks. I'm still clumsy with physical tools, and the fruits of my labors tend to be rough, but I love the satisfaction of actually working up a sweat, getting a blister (or splinter) or two, feeling that soreness in my arms and shoulders, and looking down on a real, tangible thing that I created. Whether it is building garden boxes, adding new mounting boards and hooks for our coat room, or repainting a bathroom door that the previous owners' dog scratched up, the satisfaction is real every time.

Last year I was doing a lot of research for a game idea (which hasn't borne fruit...yet) and assembled a database of nearby stars. I had a lot of labels and numbers, but I couldn't actually see what they meant. My first attempt to visualize these numbers was a simple Javascript animation. It helped some, but it still wasn't right. I wanted something I could feel.

So, going out of my comfort zone, I started planning something out. I purchased materials. I drilled holes, glued dowels, painted spheres. I built something. The result:

Holding this model in my hands for the first time was tremendously satisfying. I showed it to everybody. I even took it to my martial arts class and showed it to my instructor! (For context, he's a big space nerd, too, and really appreciated it.)

Is it perfect? No. The dowel's aren't perfectly perpendicular to the base. The measurements aren't exact. The board could have been sanded a bit better around the edges. The model itself is not very self-explanatory. But I maked this!  (If you'd like to make one, too, I put together a page with instructions, including PDFs with the star map. Give it a try! Let me know how it goes, and what I could have explained (or done!) differently.)

String figures gave me this same satisfaction, once upon a time. Even years later, I still pick up a string loop and find the old patterns familiar and comfortable. Wood carving, too, and though my eyes struggle with it these days, I once enjoyed making chain mail. In the next few weeks I plan on learning (with my kids) how to cast silicone molds and make resin dice. The satisfaction of making can be found in a lot of different forms.

What do you enjoy making? How does that creative instinct manifest for you? Drop me a line (or comment on Twitter) and let me know!