5 ways to make space for creativity
***MONTREAL: Come to my show Feb 12th at Verre Bouteille! Wear red and I’ll take a polaroid with you.***
Speaking with folks around me, there is a general vibe of nobody having had a break since last fall. I myself have been packed with projects — moving, announcing the music festival, writing for an album, and working extra to make up for the months of income I lost to a nasty concussion.
And yet!! The creative urge persists!
Here are some prompts I have played with, that I extend to you to experiment with in the little windows of time we are able to preserve in a world that is always demanding more.
Make your own perfume oil
Mine is a mix of warm, spicy scents: cinnamon, vanilla, ginger. There are actual cinnamon sticks and vanilla beans in the bottle. I shake it up before using it. It smells amazing, and feels like a warm hug. This project reminded me I can make beauty of all sorts, casually, for fun, and it is still powerful.
Just be sure to dilute essential oils in a carrier oil, and do a test patch as some can be irritating to the skin.
Declutter your wardrobe
This was conveniently paired with the task of moving for me. I highly recommend it. It was nice to see all the versions of myself I’ve been in the last several years, and nicer to let go.
I’m selling what can be sold and donating the rest. Some of it, I am keeping to make crafts. Clearing space makes it easier to breathe and think. Good for any artist!
Bonus: Clear off your desk, empty and reorganize a drawer, move the furniture around, alphabetize your books.
Invent a new recipe for whatever you have in the fridge
I know this is common practice for a lot of us, but it feels worth mentioning since many of us see endless picture-perfect dishes on our phones, and may be influenced to buy a ton of ingredients to replicate the recipe. (more on this later).
The task: spend NO money! Rifle through the fridge, freezer, and cupboard, and see if you can gather a unique combo of ingredients for any meal of the day.
My buy-nothing lunch invention was slow-roasting asparagus in butter and lemon, plopping them down on some ricotta, and scooping with days-old bread I toasted. Side of pickled eggplant.
No-buy (week? month? year?)
Initially, my incentive to do this was driven by my income stalling after a head injury. But I’ve been keeping this up as an ongoing challenge for myself, and it has proven to be a very powerful exercise in GRATITUDE.
It turns out, I have everything I need. What I don’t have, I can make, borrow, find on the sidewalk, trade for in no-buy groups. If I can’t find it in those ways, I wait a couple weeks before going to a thrift store. Most of the time, I don’t end up buying the thing at all.
Moving and not having a full kitchen set up yet inspired me even more. What do I actually need? Sleep, food, water, clothing, soap, a pan, a cup, a fork, space to be creative, to move my body, fresh air, and good people. Everything I need is already accessible. How many days can I go without spending money? How many services and subscriptions can I unsubscribe to? How creative can I get with what is available?
Simplifying my life like this has inspired me to share more of what I do have. And that is very good, I think. It challenges the frightened ape that awakens in me whenever the weather gets cold. We not gon’ die.
One week, NO PHONE.
I know we’re all sick of hearing it, but humour me. This is the last one.
My smart-phone use has become unignorably problematic in my life. The focus, time, and peace lost to scrolling short-form content have been weighing on me, making me feel weak, guilty, and ever aware of my mortality.
First thing in the morning, phone. To the bathroom, phone. Making tea, phone. It has invaded every single free moment of the day, where, ordinarily, my mind was free to wander, free to stumble across an insight. The stress of big life changes exacerbated the issue, and I was deeper in the pit than ever.
Artists, I think, are especially vulnerable to this due to the vast stretches of unstructured time where boredom can give way to ideas. The shorter (albeit more destructive) path to dopamine is to just sink into the phone.
I was out on a night walk with my sweet one, who suggested we do a one-week phone detox together. “Systemic problems require systemic solutions,” wisdom that eases my shame. I handed him my phone right then and there. On day 2, I started going over to his for what we call “phappointments” (phone appointments), where we each do the phone-only things we need, like making calls, filming and editing reels, and logging into services that require 2-factor authentication. The phappointments are short and focused, and then we move on. We have not even done them daily.
People I talk to about this almost always make the comparison of smartphone dependence to smoking. One wise lady said she no longer uses her phone in front of children, because she wouldn’t smoke in front of them. That really resonated with me. If/when I leave the house with my phone again, I will implement that rule with myself.
I have replaced the phone with novels, notebooks, occasional long-form media, and quiet mornings and evenings where my noisy brain can dance to its content.
At first, I really felt like I was missing out on the cultural shifts of the moment, that my concerts will be poorly attended if I am not scrolling, posting, engaging all the time. The urge to reach for the phone was near constant. Then, hourly. Then, twice or three times daily. The peace, the space to wander, and the time I’ve reclaimed have been highly rewarding. I may extend the experiment another week.
I humbly remind myself that one week will not be enough to break and rebuild healthier habits, but it is a start.
I can hear my own voice again.
xx