This one started on a Brisbane to Sydney flight, late last Thursday evening. I’d been up since 4am, flew into Brisbane for a quick speaking engagement, and thought I’d be back in time to give the kids a sneaky goodnight kiss, but my flight ended up delayed by an hour.
I’d started off using the delay as an opportunity to catch up on study – even as we took off, I was still watching videos about how the brain processes memories. But as the lights of Brisbane city got further away, I felt my attention drifting too. I was yawning, getting distracted, and trying to stretch my legs with little luck. As usual, my body was more tired than my brain was. Tempted as I was to keep going, I decided to slow right down.
I put on my pre-downloaded acoustic guitar playlist, opened Procreate on my iPad, and started doodling single-line flowers. My challenge was to draw each flower without lifting the stylus. I wanted to make each flower different to the last, but told myself not to think too much about what I was producing. I wanted to just let my hand – and whimsy – take the lead, and let my head take a break in the back seat. I found this a lot easier and far more relaxing than trying to letter a word or phrase – there’s no pre-existing idea of what things “should” look like. I scribble, attempt to turn the scribble into something that resembles a plant, and if I don’t like it, I erase it and start again.
There was a time I would’ve done a creative exercise like this and immediately after (or let’s be honest, probably during it), felt guilty that I was wasting my time. Or maybe even reprimanded myself for allowing myself to be “distracted” instead of just closing my eyes and attempting to sleep. But I know myself well enough to know that even if I could be sleeping and should be sleeping, my busy mind doesn’t sleep until it’s calm. Sometimes a creative fix is my key to calm.
I have gone looking for and experimented with creative output for as long as I can remember – writing, painting, sketching, doodling, lettering, knitting, sewing, crafting. You name it, there are probably remnants of the tools and materials needed for that activity somewhere in my office. I used to think these were side quests that were indulgent and childish. Now, I’ve realised that when I don’t make time for creativity, I end up angry, stuck and unfulfilled. It’s simply a part of who I am. I get called in and out of it – sometimes I shelve it for a while and focus on heart work that sustains me in a different way, and sometimes I remind myself to come back because there is so much fun (and fuel!) that comes with permitting myself to play.
The flowers are still sitting in my iPad… and will hopefully find their way onto a greeting card of some sort, at some point. I will continue sharing these projects with you through this blog, as things start coming alive at my desk (or on the way home from a gig). I want to get more courageous about putting things out into the world that are incomplete and imperfect. Some things turn into bigger things, and some things sit in a sketchpad or portfolio for years, simply existing because I happened to make the time to make them.
That’s allowed too.