One Small Spark

Rekindling creativity when the light goes out

Over the past year, more so than any other year, I’ve worried that I’m out of ideas. Completely. When you make your living being creative, that’s terrifying. Paradoxically, the more I tried to coax new art out of myself, the less that came. It’s only been in the past few months that I’m making more easily. Maybe it’s the shift in the seasons. It’s probably helped working two jobs instead of three. But creative dry spells aren’t a one and done. They may be capricious, but they are a constant. Awhile back, I wrote about some ideas for rekindling creativity. But increasingly, I’ve been thinking how sometimes the inability to make is rooted in something far deeper. It isn’t just a matter of needing a creative prompt. It’s more that we’re a well run dry by life. So from that perspective, a few things that have helped me this past year:

Am I hungry, angry, sad or tired? I’m embarrassed to admit how often my problems are fixed by a sandwich. But more seriously, life shapes your art. Everything you draw seems awful? Maybe it’s been a rough month and you don’t feel great about yourself, much less your art. Colors a mess? It’s hard to paint happy hues when you’re dealing with loss. Did you pull an all-nighter to hit a deadline and now find yourself just staring at a blank piece of paper, frozen? Cut yourself some slack. Walk around the block, lock yourself in the bathroom for five minutes, take a couple deep breaths. Our most basic needs are often the easiest to minimize.

I am not a robot. You are not a robot: The internet enjoys perpetuating the illusion that everybody is making art all the time, everywhere, of tremendous quality, quickly. And yes, sometimes a creator is riding a wave, full of ideas. But burnout (like death and taxes) will find you. We all wipe out eventually. You don’t have an idea today? They won’t have an idea tomorrow. It’s just a cycle.

Life is made up of seasons: After my grandfather passed away, my grandmother moved to a memory care unit. Following that, I helped clean and pack up my grandparents home of over 60 years. While it’s an experience that I’m grateful for, it was hard. One minute I was folding up towels, the next running across my grandmother’s high school diploma. How do you put a lifetime of love into boxes? And during that time, I didn’t make much memorable art. But I do remember eating take away with my parents, my aunt and uncle, swapping memories, crying and laughing. My uncle passed away five years later, which makes that time all the more dear. The art will be there when you’re ready to go back to it. Whether it’s a colicky newborn or a parent who needs driving to the doctor, it’s worth remembering that this is just a season (even if it does feel never ending). It’s hard to create when fatigued, grieving or just plain frustrated.

Join a creative challenge: The internet is full of creative challenges: The 100 Day Project, Folktale Week, Inktober and Peachtober, to name a few. If your artistic well has run dry, participating in a group project can be a huge help. Prompts give you a ready made idea. And you have the benefit of joining a creative community, traveling alongside other artists. If life is a lot, don’t try to do every day of the challenge. Maybe just choose one or two prompts. I did a handful of days of Inktober last year (including the above drawings). It was a big help at a time when I didn’t feel like drawing much.

Don’t Push: The more I’ve tried to push myself to create, the less that comes out. Give it a go and if after a set period of time nothing is working, put things aside. This won’t hold true for client work. In those cases, you just have to muscle through. But if it’s your personal work that’s taking a hit, step away.

Music is your Friend: Days when I’ve felt especially stuck, I’ve been queuing up an album and just drawing. The only parameter I give myself is to make something that matches the feel of the music (and sometimes the lyrics). I drew the below inspired by the Johnny Flynn song, “Uncanny Valley.” Also, if you’re interested in the effects of music on the brain, this interactive model is fascinating.

Don’t Go It Alone: Find a critique group, go to figure drawing classes, participate in a zoom drawing session. Realizing you’re not the only person struggling to create is liberating and being cheered on by others who have made it through to the other side is encouraging. The idea of unbridled vulnerability with strangers makes me break out in a cold sweat. But there’s a freedom in realizing you’re not the only person who has struggled, even if sharing is hard.

Make What Comes Easily: Not everything you make has to be revolutionary and earth-shattering. If no new ideas are coming, go back to the old ones. Or focus on creating in a series, embracing sameness. Redraw something you sketched a year ago. Do a series of mushrooms. Illustrate one letter per day. There’s a comfort in familiarity and sometimes you just need to tread water for a while. There’s no shame in this and sometimes resting will set you off in new directions.

Give it Time: This is the answer I hate, the cliche that makes me roll my eyes. But it’s true, even if it is obnoxious. We’re living in a society that never stops moving. Our cultural expectation is that Input A means Output B, all the time, everywhere. And while that’s true for vending machines, it’s not for humans. Making art takes time, not only in its production, but also in its inception. Sometimes we just have to get to the point in life where we’re ready to make the art we’re meant to make. What we create isn’t divorced from our life experiences, it’s wrapped up in it, for better or for worse. And getting to that point? It takes time.