RETURNING TO OUR CREATIVE WORK AFTER A BREAK

Much like myself, many artists I work with have other demands on their time and energy. From family commitments to health issues, along with indulging other passions or occupations, artists are not always producing work full-time and need very real strategies for staying connected to their art-making and re-engaging with the work when they are able to return to the studio.

For most artists, art-making is a life purpose, which is why we feel the calling so deeply. Ideally, we want to consistently engage with our art practice, as it is through our creative work that we create meaning-making opportunities for ourselves and develop our craft. However, it’s likely not our only life purpose, as we may have multiple areas of focus in our lives that feed our need for meaning and connection. As a result, we may find ourselves taking time away from our art-making to serve these other life purposes. We may also be taking time away to deal with some of the very real aspects of life—family, health, financial stability, etc.

With that understanding, we can assume that having periods away from our art practice is likely to occur for us for various reasons. But why do we struggle so much when it happens, and what can we do to make this pattern more acceptable for ourselves? What helps us stay connected to our art-making when we experience these breaks?

Here are a few points that can help:

Reframe the feeling of absence

I learned a long time ago that I needed to reframe these periods of absence from my art-making as something more manageable and lower the volume on my anxiety around them. Being an artist and a coach meant that breaks from my creative work were inevitable.

When I wasn’t able to hold these times of absence in a healthy way, I would have so much negative energy to face and clear out before I could begin working once more. I would have to spend what time I did have in the studio trying to get ready to work, rather than actually working. This significantly lessened the quality of the time I had available to me and compounded the feeling of absence, creating a cycle that felt deeply challenging to overcome. And, like clockwork, resistance would arrive.

What I discovered, as I began exploring what was at play for me, was that reframing the feelings I was experiencing when I wasn’t able to make my creative work shifted things significantly.

As I dug deeper and tuned into what the absence was creating within me, I realized these feelings were actually a form of longing. And the mindset I was holding was overlaying that longing with feelings of frustration and angst. So instead, I leaned into how much I actually missed my studio work and allowed myself to eagerly anticipate returning to it, rather than shaming myself for not doing better. I thought about paintings, imagined making work and exploring ideas, and wrote in my sketchbook journal as often as possible to cement these feelings into my awareness. This made such a difference for me.

When we can affirm and connect with how much we are looking forward to our studio time—rather than focusing on lack—we focus on the sweetness of reuniting with our work once more. Where we place our focus, our energy goes.

How might you reframe breaks from your art-making?

Have a re-entry strategy

One of the challenges we face when we have an inconsistent art practice is how to reconnect with the work when we are finally able to return to it. We need to plan for that.

Before you leave the studio, take some time to take stock of where you are with your work. Look at the paintings in process and write about what you’re connected to in the work, what areas seem to be aligning with your intention for the work, and what areas are not working for you. Lay out some clear action steps you would take with the work if you had more time to work on it.

Because this is the time when you are most connected with the piece, dig in deeply here and leave yourself as many clues as you can for your re-entry. When you return to the studio, take out your journal and read what you captured, looking deeply at the work to see if these breadcrumbs you left for yourself can guide you back in.

You can even take pictures of the pieces you’re working on so you can refer to them later and reconnect with them whenever you can.

But perhaps too much time has passed due to external circumstances, and somehow you have changed along the way and this work no longer feels right for you. If so, this is the time to give yourself full permission to make big, bold, swift changes to the work from the positional relationship you have to it now.

“You can’t step into the same river twice,” so there is every possibility that you are not the same person on any given day.

Consider what stage the painting is at to determine the approach you want to take. If it is close to being finished, then take your time and warm yourself up to it once more. Review those notes you made the last time you were working on it and see if you can find a way to bring it home.

If it’s in the middle or early stages, go in boldly and give yourself something to respond to in order to enliven the energy of the work.

Remember that your attitude towards re-entry is everything, and that is something you can control.

What might your re-entry attitude be?

Nurture your art-making continually

We know that showing up for our art-making regularly is the ideal for working artists, so that is the commitment we want to make if we can, as that will give us the greatest opportunity to further develop our work.

And in reality, that isn’t always possible in the ways we would like, for whatever reason. But do we stop being artists when we are not in our studios? No, we are always artists. This is a potent belief to hold and build some strategies around.

For instance, if you’re travelling, take a sketchbook and some materials with you. Take pictures of your works in process to contemplate them. You can even use an app like Procreate to make digital works or try out things on images of your in-process work. Take pictures of colour studies, textures, and compositional arrangements you like. Later, make notes in your sketchbook journal about how you might work with these inspiration sources. Set up a series of small exercises that you could do while you are away—like a small sketch a day or a kitchen-table studio where you can do some small collages, etc.

Pay attention to what you notice on a daily basis. Artists tend to see and feel things differently and often have a heightened sensitivity to their environments. Sitting in a waiting room? Look around you. Study the people there. Notice the colours and light in the space. Are there textures, patterns, or other sensory elements to engage with? Perhaps you even want to take some pictures of what you’re noticing to remind yourself later. Everything is information and inspiration for your creative work, especially if it caught your attention.

In what ways can you nurture your artist self and feed inspiration to your creative soul?

Question the conventional ideas of productivity

We live in a culture that celebrates productivity and getting ahead as measures of our worth. We’re doing more, moving faster than ever before, and losing our ability to daydream and drift.

Creativity thrives in open, quiet spaces without agendas and accomplishment goals. Boredom is actually a good thing—the compost for imagination and innovation. Many of us no longer know how to sit with boredom. We fill up all the spaces.

Is your time away from your studio actually about replenishing yourself, rather than not achieving some standard or goal that we are conditioned to meet? Does the pace you’re trying to keep feel sustainable for you? Is there a better rhythm to your creative output—one that includes breaks away from the work and opportunities that nourish your creative soul? What benefits might embracing some downtime offer you? Are you leaning into fear over trust by forcing yourself to work when a break might be the reset you need?

How would you craft your own version of what it means to be successful as an artist?

Accept and trust that fallow periods are a natural part of the creative cycle

The other type of absence artists experience is when they are in a fallow period and, even with studio time available to them, they are uninspired to work or feel the need to move somewhere else in their work, but haven’t as yet. So they stop for a period of time.

Regeneration is a part of life and, at times, artists also need to stop working in order for something new to come through. If you have a consistent art practice and can sustain yourself through periods of absence, then the arrival of a fallow period may simply indicate this need for regeneration.

But we have to get really honest with ourselves and make sure we are truly in a resting period and not avoiding working due to creative anxiety.

These two states will feel very different. Creative anxiety will feel tight, closed, and fear-based. A fallow period will feel right in some way, as if it is needed. There will be more comfort with the waiting, a sense of trust, and a curiosity around what is coming. But be careful not to turn a productive fallow period into creative anxiety by mistrusting your inner guidance and forcing ideas onto yourself about how you “should” be working.

Our mindset creates the thoughts and attitudes we have about ourselves and our circumstances. Those thoughts either serve us as creatives or they don’t. It’s really that simple.

When circumstances dictate where our focus needs to reside, it is our mindset around those circumstances that will support us as we take the necessary break from our art-making. And it is also our mindset that will carry us back into the studio, ready to make our art once more.

What story will you tell yourself about your next break from creative work?