Anything Can Be a Lamp
on creativity, control, and learning to see things differently
There’s this idea that’s been rolling around in my head lately, and it keeps boomerang-ing back: anything can be a lamp if you want it to be.
I first said it half-jokingly during a factory tour in San Miguel on my work trip with my friends at Camille Styles and Clay Imports. We were surrounded by ceramic molds, tile samples, and shelves of half-formed pottery—some labeled, most not. Nick, the owner, encouraged us to look at everything with curiosity and a loose grip on convention. At one point, someone picked up a sculptural bowl and asked what it was meant to be. I shrugged and said, “I don’t know… but it could be a lamp.”
We laughed, but the phrase stuck with me. Because once you stop insisting that things must serve their original purpose—once you soften your grip on form, function, and expectation—everything starts to feel more creative. More expansive. That, to me, is non-attachment.
various views and potential lamps from my trip
Non-attachment is a concept that gets a bad rap—maybe because it sounds clinical, like something you’d learn in therapy about relationships. But it’s not about becoming a robot or disconnecting from your feelings. And it’s definitely not dissociation or numbness. Non-attachment is about softening your grip on how you think life should go, and making space for how it actually is.
It’s the difference between:
“I don’t care what happens,” and “I’ll be okay no matter what happens.”
Big difference.
This has been especially top of mind as I’ve been moving. Leaving a home full of memories while stepping into a space that doesn’t yet hold a single story. It’s bittersweet. Some days I feel excited; other days I’m an anxious puddle. I’ve had to surrender structure and embrace chaos—both in my environment and my schedule.
Work mirrors this too. As a photographer, if I go into a shoot overly attached to a specific vision, I usually miss the best parts. My favorite images happen when I stay open to what’s actually unfolding—when I loosen my grip and pay attention. My Shifting series came out of this exact mindset: it was born during a time when everything in my life felt uncertain, and I used my camera to explore how light and form morph depending on your lens and vantage point. I didn’t try to control what the images meant. I just stayed curious. Turns out, that was the meaning.
This is also part of the reason I’ve never been able to settle on a photography “specialty.” People ask what I shoot, and I say “lifestyle,” but the truth is I’ve always resisted picking a lane. I like the freedom of trying things, of shifting focus, of letting the work evolve. (But please allow me to change my mind on this later, lol.)
In practice, non-attachment can look like:
Creating work you love, even if no one claps for it
Letting go of the need to win someone over
Saying no to something that looks good on paper
Questioning the systems you're part of
Letting people be who they are—even if it disappoints you
Being willing to change your mind, again and again
Challenging the rules or norms imposed by others
It’s not about checking out. It’s about showing up—with presence, not pressure.
This mindset doesn’t always come naturally to me. I’m someone who can get overly attached to plans, timelines, my work, others’ opinions, the shot list. But when I remember to loosen my grip and stay curious about the outcome—even just a little—I feel more grounded. More curious. More available to whatever’s next.
There’s a line from one of my favorite novels Shantaram I think about often:
“The truth is a bully we all pretend to like.” It reminds me that a lot of the structures, expectations, and pressures we quietly accept as "just the way things are"—might not be truth at all. Practicing non-attachment helps me question those defaults. It invites me to rewrite the rules. And it gives me a little more space to live, work, and create on my own terms.
So back to the main point: anything can be a lamp. And nothing has to stay exactly the same.
Here’s to shifting perspectives, softening our grip, and finding a little more freedom in the process.
Until next time,
Michelle
Love