Field notes from the drawing board

Hello Reader,

What stops us from being creative?

The grip of control.

The fear of the messy unknown.

The addiction of done.

It feels so good to have a goal and then reach it. Tick. Closing loops or planning can feel like progress and productivity. But this isn't creating, it's completing.

Attachment to a particular outcome is another creativity murderer.

Wanting to create something mouth-droppingly good might choke you because when you start, it’s definitely not that.

It’s a little bitter, notes not fully balanced - yet. You’re not working the deep fryer at Mickey Dees, you’re a sous chef at The Bear. Your creative work needs time and space to marinate and evolve.

We block ourselves by forgetting to fall in love with the process. Rush past the romance of creating, like going on a first date and expecting the person slurping ramen in front of you to become your partner in holy matrimony.

You enjoy the conversation and getting to know someone (and new parts of yourself that person brings out). Not future-casting, but fully releasing into the present moment like the flower blooming in your tea cup.

Dropping expectations is the secret life spice.

Our wants can get in the way of relishing the act of making. They shed light on what’s important to us; what we’re drawn to and calling in. But they can also impair our vision.

Lusting after specific outcomes feels deeply human. Look at White Lotus's Walton Goggins. He’s so fixated on revenge he misses the love right in front of him. We do the same with creative work when we focus on a specific outcome.

An idea of how our project, creative venture, business, or life should look starts to take hold, and we lose sight of what’s asking to come through, which might be infinitely more tantalizing than we imagined.

It's comforting to believe we can control the future, but it's also limiting because we miss all the options waltzing in front of us. A laser-focus makes us fixed, rigid, and closed. That's creativity-blocking energy right there.

When we approach creating with curiosity instead of control, we widen our aperture and anchor into the present (and all that's available here).

So, if you’re feeling clogged, these four practices can help create flow:

1. Allow whatever you're creating to be shit. I tell myself, “It doesn’t matter what comes tumbling onto the page, what matters is that I showed up.” Even if it's not a grand slam, I’ll be proud of myself for showing up for it. This gives me wings (without the Red Bull shakes). I make myself available and open to whatever might emerge.

Call it your MVP (minimum viable product) or rough draft. Perfection has no place here. This is creation time, editing and evaluating come later.

2. Separate creating from evaluating. The sensitive artist within needs a safe place to create freely without the scathing reviews of the inner critic.

If it bursts onto the scene, tell it to come back later. It’s not their moment in the sun, yet. The judge, critic, or editor will get the chance to clean it up later, after you've had fun playing, exploring, and getting messy.

I can’t tell you how much this frees me up. Works every time. There will be days when I feel pressured to create something good (brilliant even) right out the gate. Then I remind myself this is an MVP, a draft, that can be whatever it needs to be.

3. Show up to receive. Creativity doesn’t only come from me. Ideas rise up from a connected place within and are thrown to me (here, catch), but I have to be present to receive them.

I need to get quiet. Stop the pull to get stuff done or try to control the future, instead receiving and expressing, fully immersed in the work.

I might never go on another date with the idea I created, but we had an amazing time talking about the multiverse. Or maybe it’s the start of a romance. I’m open to outcomes and curious about what is asking to be created now.

4. Make it fun. Whatever you’re building, making, or shaping gets to be fun. It doesn’t have to be hard, soul-sucking work. There's this sticky cultural story that creating anything great requires struggle and strife.

There might be some truth to this, but when you enjoy what you’re in the process of making, you’ll show up to it with a different flavor of drive (passionfruit).

It becomes focused, passionate work, instead of grinding to get a particular outcome that makes you feel safe, successful, or like you’re finally arrived.

But you need to release the imaginary reins and go for a joy ride.

I remind myself of these practices each time I show up to the page. When I'm feeling stuck, it's usually because I'm focused on what my work needs to do or be rather than allowing what wants to emerge.

On that note, I’m been thinking about creating an Atelier After-hours, a space where we get together for an hour every month to create and see what shows up.

We’ll write or sketch freely for 30 minutes (I’ll give prompts for those allergic to the blank page), have 20 minutes to share what came through (this could be anything - a poem, a part of a business plan, an idea for a podcast), then 10 minutes to share what we’re crushing on and enjoying.

It will be an MVP - an experiment to explore what works and what doesn’t.

The name Atelier After-hours appeared recently (when I was open to receive it without needing it to immediately make sense) and I love the feel of it.

I imagine opening the studio after work, an eclectic playlist with Mazzy Star and Kendrick Lamar in the background, cherry kombucha and natural wine being passed around, magazines and sketches strewn across the marble coffee table, the scent of vanilla Oud and paper in the air. Soft lighting.

A comfortable place to get courageous, messy, and let wild ideas run free while we snort laugh. This isn't work after all. It's the Atelier After-hours.

Would this be something you’d be interested in?

Want to join the Atelier After-hours? Yes, absolutely. I'm in like Flynn. Nah, not my jam.

If you gave yourself 30 minutes a day, what might you create?

Try it and hit reply with your field notes.

Keep creating,