Last term, in a particularly dark shade of Michaelmas, I was sitting in my room surrounded by paper, meticulously folding envelopes. 'Folding envelopes?', I hear you cry. Well, dear readers, these were not just any envelopes, These were envelopes designed by a very talented third year art historian, who had underestimated the time it takes to fold approximately a hundred copies of a very intricate origami envelope in tracing paper. This folding, however, was in aid of a publication which I help to assemble, a publication that I love dearly: Aviary.

In the words of Henri Matisse: ‘Creativity takes courage’. Courage is what you need when entering into an endeavour like Aviary. You have to be prepared to cycle around at one o’clock like a demented elf delivering envelopes into pigeon holes. You have to want to search out 70 buttons on your Sunday afternoon with an essay deadline looming. You have to enjoy a process that ultimately receives no profit other than your own deluded satisfaction at having participated in creating something beautiful. Being at the helm of a production like Aviary becomes akin to being a smug, arty Santa Claus.

But why do I spend time folding envelopes in a darkened room? Why not let the professionals do it and concentrate on my degree? Because I can’t help it. I want to create beautiful things. I want to share the excitement I reap from new ideas, the inspiration I find in other people, and Aviary is one of the ways I am able to do that. The submissions we receive are always surprising. They always make us think, and perhaps it is selfish but it’s the experiences I gain from Aviary that make it such a worthwhile endeavour. The people that I have met through it are some of the most talented and interesting that I’ve encountered: it puts me in a position where I’m always learning. In a world where the output of publishing houses is often dictated by economic certainty and assured market values, it is refreshing to experience circumstances where, literally, anything goes.

Putting time and effort into something you love is a natural part of any good thing. Just as relationships take time and love, so does a publication, and plants need water and light just as a magazine needs submissions and readers. The mantra of Scott Fitzgerald when it comes to writing - that ‘nothing any good isn’t hard’ - applies to most areas of life. As we know from our studies, it is through perseverance that we gain the things that are of most value.

That being said, it isn’t all toil. David Foster Wallace puts emphasis on enjoyment when it comes to the act of creating: ‘the whole endeavour’s about fun’. But it’s all very well for the creatives. What do the editors get out of it? Snipping and picking - admittedly some weeks more than others - the influx of submissions and the quality vary enormously, but that’s part of the joy of the job, as is collecting submissions and developing them from email attachments to palpable objects.

Charles Bukowski argues that one shouldn’t create at all unless ‘it comes unasked’. I wasn’t asked to help with Aviary: I volunteered. I wanted to help the continuation of something beautiful and it is this spirit that makes student publications so exciting. They are driven primarily by a love and desire to create, free from the pressures and manipulation of mass marketing.  So I will continue to fold for you, dear students, although luckily this term’s issue has an envelope that came pre-folded: we’re learning.