I woke up feeling… off.

Physically tired before even getting out of bed. Moody, shall we say?

Walking into my temporary studio (we are in BC for a month of skiing) I glanced at the five small paintings in progress, but I didn’t see progress. I thought, “I have no idea what to do here, I’m going in circles”.  Then, “I will never learn to paint well”. And finally, “What’s the point?” 

I made coffee and opened my email to find two newsletters from artists I really admire and eagerly follow online. The first one was packed full of the artist’s lovely energy and engaging ideas; but in my negative frame of mind, it felt like a reproach to my lack of fresh ideas. I deleted the second one without opening it.

What do you do when the feeling of being utterly lost hits you?

I went skiing (to get away from reproachful newsletters and bad art) and soon arrived in a patch of heavy fog, on a steep slope, unable to see more than a metre ahead of myself. Being “lost” in dense cloud can bring on a feeling of disequilibrium: unable to see the horizon or any other visual cues, you feel like you are falling over while standing still.

To overcome my fear that I’m going to run into someone, I talk to myself:  I’ve seen this before and I know what to do; I’m a skilled skier, and I will be FINE.

Then the key is to start moving again. Move to the side of the hill where the trees offer some depth and perspective. Move forward (downward), carefully, until you ski out of the cloud. Now I see where I am and where I’m going, and once again I feel confident and energetic.

Art is like skiing: Stay confident, and keep moving

Being stuck in fog on a ski hill is a wonderful metaphor for being stuck in your art process.

For me it happens in the “messy middle”, when you’re past the point of playful beginnings, and you’re now slogging through a whole lot of ugliness, confused values, and underwhelming design. This is where I can feel I’m going in circles, start doubting my abilities.

Is this the first time I’ve felt stuck with my work? Hell, no! The only rookie move here is forgetting for a moment how familiar this place is.

A little self-talk is helpful to find my confidence again: Ah, this old gnarly patch! I’ve seen this before and I know what to do; I’m a skilled painter, and I will be FINE.

It’s also really comforting to know that this is familiar to anyone who works in a creative medium – as many followers on Instagram rushed to tell me, after I did a sad little post about feeling lost. Thanks, guys!

The next step is to start moving and then keep going. Putting on my apron, filling up containers of water, reaching for paints and pencils, every little action breaks the inertia. As I started to paint again, I listened to a live interview with Nicholas Wilton – podcasts and music energise me and help me get out of my head. Before I know it I’m moving more fluidly and making some pleasing discoveries.

Which brings me to my second metaphor:

Art is like travel: Get lost, find surprises

Getting lost when you travel is always rewarding - and so is getting lost in art (even if it feels hard at first).

When I’m on the road and landing in a new place for the first time, there’s little I like better than exploring. I’ve done my advance research and examined the map, to get a strong orientation. But once I set out, often I have no plan other than seeing what I can find. I’m on a mission of discovery. My routes tend to meander according to what I see up ahead that looks interesting. Markets, public transportation, residential neighbourhoods, small places to eat, conversations with strangers – by the end of the day I’ve had dozens of discoveries, countless surprises, many questions and a few new understandings.

Adopting a similar mindset in creative pursuits – of openness, exploration, and embracing uncertainty – is the best antidote to feeling stuck. I remind myself to let go of trying to reach a planned destination for the moment and see what can happen when I try something different instead. I know that once I’m back into a more playful, experimental attitude, good things – surprising things – are going to start to happen.

Which is precisely what transpired with the five small paintings on that morning when I felt so lost and stuck. Having shaken off the doubts and fears, I set out to find something fresh. Making marks, brushing on colour, wiping it off, changing direction to chase something interesting – it didn’t take long to find a creative flow and to start enjoying myself again.

Lessons from life to art:

• Getting stuck happens from time to time. Count on it.

• Negative thoughts will intrude - send them packing, kindly but firmly.

• Break inertia - move forward - keep moving!

• Explore, get lost. go looking, and watch for surprises.

Let’s connect!