I have made a ton of stuff in the last few years, and regardless of how much of it is seen or used, I'm deeply satisfied by it. I posted another LEGO time-lapse on my silly YouTube channel (help me out and subscribe) that YouTube will make money off of for free, but that's fine. Most of the stuff that I make is mostly for me first, and if others find a benefit, that's a bonus. The scope doesn't matter. It's also important to make the distinction that this stuff I make is largely a solitary effort. No one else is really involved.
Now I'm endeavoring to make something that will involve other people, take a significant amount of time, probably over the next year, and involve a whole lot of people and travel. I simultaneously feel an intense focus to make it happen and equally intense anxiety that makes me want to just stay home and not do it. That's the reason that I haven't really written about it yet. If I don't write about it, I don't have to admit that I didn't do it. It's like creative cowardice, if that's a thing.
I'm fairly certain that the anxiety is rooted in the same thing that kept me from doing my silly short videos at first or writing any kind of fictional screenplay. I'm just deeply afraid that it's going to suck. I've somehow forgotten how to allow things to suck as a means of learning. When it comes to art, I want to have that story where an unknown creates something marvelous and everyone loves it. I'm skipping the part where it's for me and making it about others.
At least I understand the source of the anxiety, but it sure is hard to talk myself out of it. We'll see where I am with it in a few weeks.