How Do You Water Your Creativity?

Have you ever waited at the bus stop of inspiration? It takes a long time.

“There are always flowers for those who want to see them.” – Henri Matisse

Sometimes inspiration is easy. I can be inspired by the impact of a word, the shape of a tree, or the characters in a myth or legend. There are other times when I find it more difficult to land an idea engaging enough to inspire a new painting let alone a whole new series.  Choosing any one idea can feel like a big commitment.

I could wait inspiration out, but I’ve found that the longer I stay in my head without grabbing my brushes, the more elusive the ideas become.  This conundrum can easily lead to melancholy and self-flagellation if I don’t nip it in the bud.  That’s when I call a professional.

Of course, I’m referring to the floral therapist. Laying on the “couch” can be pretty expensive these days so I have chosen self-care in the form of opulent bouquets instead.

When I catch the smell of fresh flowers in the studio, I paint.

Have you ever treated yourself to a huge bouquet of flowers? Have you ever selfishly locked them up in your studio?  Cut flowers come with an urgency. They demand to be painted… and now. You have a window of a couple of days at best before the petals begin to fall and the entire bouquet shifts, wilts, and eventually asked to be laid to rest in the compost bin.

This urgency is important. I’m not talking about taking some snapshots of flowers from your community garden. I’m talking about stealing those flowers and engaging in the visceral race between beauty and time.  Painting the bouquet in front of you changes the way that you see the flowers themselves. Smell the perfume, notice the subtlety and richness of their colors, squint your eyes down and see the fullness of their forms. Cut flowers can be painted like a haiku.  Let them become shapes and colors. If you have some time left, include some of the details, but the details are not always necessary.

Now you’re painting. So furiously, in fact, that it might be a good night for pizza. You’ve got to get back in the studio, there is no time to waste.  It’s in this fervor that the seeds of inspiration are sown.  The muse descends and gives us a boost.  Engaging all of the senses changes the way you respond to the paint.  Each color comes with a smell, each line emulates the feel of a stem or a leaf.  Pizza tastes good.  Breath it in.

What little gifts inspire you into action? Have you given yourself the gift of inspiration lately?

What are your resistance workarounds and how do you water your creativity?