Creativity is a well that deepens the more you draw from it.

Why creativity is a muscle that you build over time; insights from the Artist's Way.

I finally started reading Artist’s Way, the book forever displayed on every cool Substack girl’s page, the one I stumble upon quite frequently on my Substack homepage feed, accompanying all sorts of writers and creative people to whimsical café dates, on their work desks, and in aesthetic, artsy photos.

Exposed to it to such an extent, I had no option but to read it myself, to understand the hype. I already feel late to the game anyway.

I bought the book from Foyles in London a couple of months ago, from their huge store in Charing Cross, and when I said “I’m looking for The Artist’s Way”, the guy working at the counter was like, “Oh, everyone is looking for it.”

That was enough for me to understand how big of a sensation this book, first written in the 90s, still is.

It had been on my list for a long while, and I was aware of its cultural impact, but I was intimidated by its volume and confused about which one to get my hands on first, as it has different versions.

I also waited for the right time to start it, as I heard it’s like an active workbook that requires you to do some exercises and gives you little tasks and missions throughout the course of it.

I also wanted my mind to be open to the lessons it was trying to teach, so I wanted to be in a position already somewhat immersed in my creativity and not completely out of it.

Calibrating each of these factors, this August personally felt like the perfect time to start.

I’m currently on week one, and I’m trying to commit to this week’s tasks and have already started the morning pages. I plan on updating you later on how it all goes!

p.s. Have you read The Artist’s Way before? If so, I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Right now, I’m far from seeing the full effects of the exercises, as I haven’t even scratched the surface of the book yet.

But I’m already feeling the impact of what the book advocates in my life, as I immersed myself in creative acts even before starting it. I was already taking myself on so-called artist dates before I knew they were a thing.

I’m trying to bolster that effect with this book and similar books in an effort to revive my inner artist & creative persona — I’m also open to similar book recommendations—. Even if I have been doing similar practices in my day-to-day already, I find that having a book to keep you accountable works even better for staying on track.

The front-liner responsible for my creative revival, though, was Substack.

For the last 6-8 months, from the beginning of this year, to be exact, I committed myself to a creative routine. I restarted my Substack, took up other creative projects alongside it, juggled them together, and it revived my creativity like never before.

As I created something for one platform, my brain started to spurt other brilliant ideas for others. My notes started to explode with killer ideas to work on.

So much so that I’m finding it hard to organize all my ideas and find time to work on all of them —but that’s a challenge I’d rather have than not having any ideas and being stuck with writer’s block.

After simultaneously managing different creative pursuits, a switch was flipped in my brain, and I realized I could make connections more easily. Like a ripple effect, creativity in one area spilled over into other domains.

How did that happen, though? Was it something magical? It surely felt like it, but it wasn’t.

I simply showed up more and made creativity one of my priorities. That was the whole trick.

I wanted to create, no matter how stupid or cringe some ideas started out. My raw, amateur ideas then became more fleshed-out ones as I persisted with them. I wrote about an idea, noticed its weak points, and honed it further, creating a better version of that initial idea.

I noticed that as I created, the closed floodgates opened, and ideas started to pour in. It was like before they were imprisoned inside, and when I knocked on the door and forced it open, I was gifted with gazillions of ideas. They just kept coming.

More ideas and inspiration knock on your door as you dive deeper into your ideas. Once desperate for ideas and fresh perspectives, you turn into an idea monster, so much so that you interrupt your sleep to jot down your crazy ideas at 4 A.M.

Your vocabulary becomes more expansive, and you express yourself more freely, getting your point across more crisply.

And that didn’t happen through waiting for inspiration, the right mood, or the perfect conditions to come. It happened as I immersed myself in a creative routine, and ideas had no choice but to come.

Creativity is an active process, and waiting for creativity to spike is a passive one; this is a notion Julia Cameron also advocates in her book, and I rightfully agree. Creativity is a skill you master with practice.

For creativity to encounter you, you need to expose yourself to it more. It’s not something that happens to you out of nowhere, miraculously, or a talent exclusive to a few lucky ones. You have to find your way into it. It’s a work in progress.

How to revive it, then? There are a bunch of ways to practice. Start by noting every idea down, scribble things even if it’s messy, ask questions, nourish your curiosity and keep your wonder alive, devour materials of other artists and creatives you love, go to galleries, museums, movies; imitate, try and fail, but be consistent and patient with it.

When you open space for creativity in your life, it rewards you with more fresh material to work on. It provides you with everything you need.

You start to make brilliant, other-worthy connections; it’s a muscle you strengthen with each creative idea you feed. As it becomes stronger, your ideas become more nuanced and authentic.

Your creative brain becomes more agile, making faster connections between ideas as you train your creative muscle.

A real-life event or even a random conversation can become a source of inspiration for your personal essay or even the plot of your novel.

Then, your next problem becomes having way too many ideas, not knowing which one to work on next, and feeling overwhelmed by them.

But when you sit down to write and have it as a part of your routine, a non-negotiable, like reading for a certain amount of time a day, even if you struggle for a couple of minutes with an idea, when you sit with it enough, the knot resolves, and the sentences start to flow.

When you sit with an idea enough, your brain starts to bring you more examples, more angles on the situation at hand. As you dive in, you start easing into the cold waters, and swimming through the sea of your ideas becomes easier.

When you don’t worry about perfection but bring an idea into life, execute it — no matter how cringe or ugly it might first seem — find the courage to show up, and put how you feel into words; then everything accelerates.

The morning pages provided me just that. With a simple structure like that — just 3 journal pages every day — I’m strengthening my writing routine and understanding the blocks that hinder my creativity.

With such a commitment, you have no other option but to write and practice your creativity. You don’t wait for inspiration to spark or the perfect conditions to write. And with time, it becomes a sturdy, reliable habit.

Creativity is an exercise. It’s like pulling a bucket from the well. When the bucket goes down, it’s empty; but when you fill it, you pull it back up, put in effort, and in return, you get rewarded with fresh ideas in your bucket.

Ideas don’t come to you from the sky. At least not consistently. You can’t rely on ideas that just happen here and there. Waiting for them to come to you is not the solution; going after them is.

If you’re ever struggling with your creativity, next time, put your bucket under the well and fill it, and bring it back up with all the power you can muster, and I’m sure something amazing will be awaiting you there.

Until next time. <3