Simple, soul-centered ways to move through creative block and reconnect with your artistic flow
I'll never forget my first year teaching high school art. I walked in with passion, sketchbooks full of ideas, and the belief that creativity could be sparked in anyone. But not long into that first semester, I hit a wall I didn’t expect.
Students staring at blank pages. Brushes dry in hand. Eyes glazed over with a quiet kind of panic.
They were stuck.
And if I’m honest, I didn’t know how to help them.
At least not in the way I wanted to.
I could give prompts. I could demonstrate. I could even come up with ideas for each student, but that was draining. And more importantly, it was pulling them away from their own creative voice. I hadn’t yet spent enough time in my own studio learning what it meant to sit with the void and keep going anyway.
So in 2007, I made a shift. I packed up and moved to Portland, Oregon, ready to take a deep dive into my own art practice. I rented my first real art studio and started showing up as often as I could. Those three years became a foundational chapter for me. I painted late into the night, usually until the final downtown bus pulled up around midnight so I could catch my ride home.
In that quiet space, I began to explore abstraction and fluid art. I experimented with layers, movement, and subconscious imagery that emerged more from process than planning. Some nights were full of flow. Others were heavy with doubt. But I kept showing up. I listened to music. I sat in silence. I let the process be whatever it needed to be.
And slowly, something softened.
I started to understand that stillness is part of the process.
Not the rushing or grasping for the next idea.
What was needed was quiet, empty space, in a physical, mental and energetic sense. The kind of space that feels uncomfortable at first but begins to hold you once you stop trying to escape it.
When I stopped running from the silence, it started to speak. Ideas surfaced gently. Some went nowhere, others surprised me. They didn’t show up because I forced them, but rather, they came because I stayed.
At my studio in Portland, OR circa 2008. Settling into large-scale, intuitive fluid acrylic paintings, when feminine themes started to emerge.
Now, when creative stuckness shows up, I don’t see it as failure.
I see it as a threshold and a moment to listen.
It's truly a chance to tend to what’s shifting beneath the surface.
If you’re there now, here are some things that have helped me find my way through. It's not a checklist, but a few simple offerings. Try what resonates!
10 Things to Try When You're Creatively Stuck
1. Sit in silence.
Give yourself ten minutes. Close your eyes and breathe. Let the nervous system soften.
2. Move your body.
Go for a walk, dance in the kitchen, or stretch under the sky. Let energy move through you.
3. Make a mess on purpose.
Let go of outcomes. Make something wild, strange, imperfect. Permission granted.
4. Give yourself a small limit.
One color, one word, even just 10 minutes. A little structure can open the door to possibility!
5. Go where beauty lives.
Step into nature, visit a gallery, or sit somewhere new. Let beauty move something inside you.
6. Write down the fear.
What are you afraid of? Let it speak. Then thank it and keep going anyway.
7. Change your materials.
Try a different surface, size, or tool. Break the pattern and start fresh.
8. Make something tiny.
One mark, one phrase, just one small piece. Small steps still count!
9. Play like a child.
With your kids, or by yourself. Be silly, be curious, and let joy lead.
10. Let yourself rest.
Not the kind of rest filled with guilt or shame, but the kind that says it's okay. Come back when you’re ready.
What I’ve learned is that being stuck is not a flaw. It’s more of an invitation.
Sometimes the shift it asks for is subtle, and sometimes it’s big.
Sometimes it wants rest, or a bolder kind of honesty, or maybe it just wants your presence.
So if you’re there right now, in that foggy in-between, know that your art hasn’t left you. It’s still here and waiting for you to return.
One small step and a little trust is all it takes.