Creativity, the Infinite Resource

This blog post is a reminder—to myself, as much as it is for you, my friend—that the well of creativity may run dry every now and then, but it is never gone for good. Skeptical of that claim? Allow me to elaborate.

Very recently, we’re talking in the last week or so, I came across reels on Instagram of different people creating art with oil pastels. For whatever reason, this form of art pleases my brain immensely, and I don’t know how many videos I watched before I thought, I’d like to give that a try. 

I would never describe myself as an artist, and the last time I picked up any kind of pastel was probably middle-school art class when I had to for an assignment. An assignment, mind you, that probably looked awful because, again, not an artist over here. 

In the last year, though, I’ve found myself open to and optimistic about attempting the visual arts. Maybe because I’m not being evaluated for what I produce? Because I’ve discovered joy in the trying? Whatever the case, I went to the craft store over the weekend, picked out some oil pastels, and have started exploring this medium. I’m delighted to report that my first few practices have been incredibly enjoyable. 

Artist I may not be, but creative I certainly am.

And most of my life I have thought about how I express my creativity and where I find my best ideas is through writing, which is still true. Aside from playing the French horn growing up (and wanting to be consistent with it again as an adult!), I believed that everyone, myself included, slotted into an avenue of expression and that’s that. Some people paint, some draw, some sing, some dance, some carve wood, some forge with iron, make jewelry, mold pottery, plant gardens, whip up incredible things in the kitchen—you name it. Essentially, you had a natural lane you fit in, and that would be enough.

Now, I better understand that your natural talents and gifts may mean you spend more time doing one, specific thing, but there’s a lot more crossover of hobbies and interests, which is why there is always creativity to be found—even when you believe the well runs dry.

Let me explain a little more with this oil pastel thing that’s new in my life. 

The thing I think I’m learning about this medium is that it’s okay to be messy, and it’s all about noticing how colors may blend together. When I’m making sketches, in comparison, I’m thinking about lines and where to place them to make the forms I have in mind. But the pastels are all about color placement, to me.

With that in mind—and because my pastel practice times have been about nature scenes—I’ve noticed over the last few days that I’m watching the clouds with the colors in mind. I’ll look up and think, Okay, I see how I would need all of my shades of grey, but also some dark blue or even a dark purple and suddenly I’m seeing the sky, something I’ve looked at everyday for my whole life, in a totally different way. It’s refreshing, invigorating, to my mind. It wakes it up in new ways.

So, the secret to how to not let the creativity run out is to let it compound. Because it’s waiting to be tapped into, and it’s never all the way gone. It’s there for you, in more ways than one. You can have your stories to tell and your drawings to create and your music and your movement. Giving time to activities other than your primary passion or hobby serves to boost the energy and depth of ideas you’ll have to give when you return to it. 

At the very least, it can change—for the better, for the more wonderful—how you look at the world. For nearly three decades, I’ve looked at the sky and marveled at the clouds or admired a sunset, but now I turn my eyes upward and the view is new. 

It’s important to me that this shift has occurred when it has: coming off a few weeks where I haven’t had the energy to get much writing done. My stories might not have been receiving the attention I’ve wished to give them, but my imagination hasn’t been turned off. It’s not because I’ve used up all my creativity and that’s that; I’ll never get the energy or the ideas back. 

It just means I’ve needed to do other things, for a time. I needed to spend time with loved ones, try my hand at a new medium, and enjoy the fact that there’s more than one well to dip into when my usual one seems to dry up. 

That’s true for you, too, friend. If you’re feeling like you’ve run out, that the creativity turned out to be a finite thing, I encourage you to pivot to something else, something new, for a time. It could be for an afternoon, for a week, maybe longer. Just know that the time away from your writing isn’t wasted and, in fact, will make it stronger, in the long run.