creative block? read this.

reflections on how a perspective shift changed everything for me.

I’ve been so fortunate to have been on a very juicy wave of inspiration these last six to eight months. Writing and creating has felt quite intuitive for a long while. But even so, I’ve known to hold this feeling close to my chest, because a future me would one day, inevitably, be envious of my current flow state.

Well, here I am! That future me! Envious of the flow! Unfortunately, the last month has felt quite barren in the realm of inspiration- and there are circumstances that have contributed to this, sure. I had strep for a week, and that certainly flattened me spiritually. And while Nate was traveling for work for half the month, I’ve been a single dog mom and therefore, more of a homebody.

Those are some external factors, sure.

This certainly is not the first time I’ve come up against this sort of block- I definitely have written about it before, the panic of not knowing what to write about or create. But just like everything in life, I am amazed by how the same lessons return to us, just in a new flavor. Because yes, external factors have played a role in the reason as to why my creative juices have felt less plentiful. But, is that the narrative I should really believe? So much of what I’m learning about creativity- or creativity as a practice, really- is how much of a lie it is that we need to wait for inspiration to strike. This is, as I’m reflecting now, what I believe to be the very belief that has kept me stuck.

I justified my lack of creating with the hope that some inspiration would come and knock me in the head- which, in fairness, has happened before- but when it comes to doing this consistently, and for a living, may I add, waiting for luck to strike doesn’t seem like a super reliable or comfortable way to go about things. It’s called a practice for a reason- a consistent effort, whether you feel like it or not. This isn’t to say we aren’t allowed to take space from our creativity. But deep down, we always know the difference between a lack of desire and a lack of belief. Whether you have inspiration or not, just do something, and inspiration will follow. I’m actually chuckling to myself as I write this because I myself avoided this exact advice for nearly a month. It is so human- our brains can’t comprehend an end result we don’t think we’re capable of yet. Creativity requires a deep faith in yourself and what you cannot yet see.

As I have begun work on large scale freelance projects, I’ve noticed that my head can turn deadlines into pressure cookers. And yes, hi! It’s me, inside that pressure cooker. I’m pursuing creative things in ways I never have before, and in turn, I’m learning so much about myself. Like, how necessary it is to operate from a place of openness. Whatever “idea” or “expectation” I have in my head of what things “should” be, really doesn’t exist. Believing that last sentence to be true is an everyday (multiple times a day) surrendering.

I’ve written about how the majority of my creative inspiration comes from noticing- from being present in a place with myself or others. In my opinion, meaningful art comes from life that had to be well-lived, in order to create it. If we are to be artists of any kind, we really do have to prioritize being human first. Spending time with people we love, experiencing new things… we need to go live first, in order to truly create about it. There is certainly a time and place for technique, and that’s been a fun part of my practice, but in my opinion, it isn’t the most important part. Technique frees an artist, but we cannot stifle the self for the sake of being one- especially when art is meant to be the most authentic expression of us.

I knew that I had to do something to get me out of my creative funk. Just because something didn’t magically come to me doesn’t mean I’ve lost my spark. It doesn’t mean I’m less of an artist, or that I’m destined for failure as a creative. I logically know that creative blocks are inevitable, human, and impossible to avoid. But it didn’t make it feel less scary at the time. So, I went to the MoMA with a dear friend. We spent about 4.5 hours in there, and easily could have spent more time had our stomachs not yelled at us to feed them.

I had a feeling I’d leave there inspired… and oh, I did.

I had read a quote while on the train ride there that really struck me. It read, your direction is found in what’s available, not in what’s missing. It relates to a sort of hot take I’ve maybe mentioned before, how limitation can actually boost or clarify creativity. Limitation forces you to work with what you’ve got, and in a sense, keeps you from telling yourself “not yet” or “I’m not ready.” It makes you look at old things in new ways. And this whole month, I was panicking. I had nothing groundbreaking. No big realization. No obvious topic I needed to talk about. And then, I read that quote on the train.

And I didn’t fully wrap my head around it until I saw this painting:

Uphe (2011) by artist Tomma Abts

Something just clicked. Look at it’s dimension, it’s texture. This is acrylic paint and oil on canvas. Completely two-dimensional. But look at everything that’s happening there! And even more: it’s completely monochromatic. Different shades of the same color, all coming together to create this wildly multi-dimensional piece with drop shadows so slight I didn’t even notice them until after I stared at it for another 5 minutes. The quote that I read on the train did indeed, come back and hit me in the head. With just one color, one canvas, and practically one medium, something beautifully intricate and unique was born. I’ve been going at this all wrong, I thought, my head’s been spinning as it’s searched desperately for something to be inspired by, when really the desperation has been the thing that’s kept me stuck.

Desperation- or really, fear- closes the mind, heart, and spirit. Or at least, that’s what it feels like to me. I’m not a failure who will let everyone down. I’m not a failure of an artist. It was my fear of those things being true that blocked me. The ego. Classic! It seems obvious, but for the whole month I was really trying to white knuckle creativity. And since I’m a human and this will happen again, I do feel grateful for this learning opportunity.

So yes, the more you look, the more you really do see. But it’s not about looking harder- it’s just about looking in a new way.

Love always, all ways,

tara w.

SHOP MY ART!

For the cost of a monthly latté, you can have access to exclusive content through soul pie à la mode- upgrade to paid or sign up for a 2-month free trial! Your support genuinely means the entire world to me.