Creative Opportunity Space


I used to think creative magic began in a studio space. I thought if I had devoted space and all the supplies then my creativity would flourish. So I gathered and purchased and organized a room in my home dedicated to creative endeavors. Then I waited and waited for inspiration to arrive, expecting my creative flow to suddenly happen because I had the studio space brimming with all the tools and resources and desire. But that's not how it worked.

It took me awhile to learn that my creative magic comes through small moments in my day. It comes through living my life and usually when I least expect it. My creativity can't be contrived. It is an organic process that grows from being fully present in my life. It grows from paying attention and pausing long enough to notice when magic is happening.

I've learned to carry a camera, a notebook and pen wherever I go, just in case. Though most of the time the deepest inspiration finds me when I am still and quiet. It feels most alive when I am not searching for it— when I'm not distracted by a desire to capture it in some way. Creative inspiration seems to thrive when I hold this kind of open space for it to emerge slowly, in it's own sweet time. It can't be rushed. Creative magic requires lots of pauses— time and space for curiosity and exploration. The magic lingers when I savor my experiences with body, heart and mind. Steeping in the moment with embodied presence embeds the magic within my cells, within my heart and soul. It is in this way that everyday moments evolve into something tangible, moments crafted with care and meaning. It is in this way that my creativity finds its voice—  stitched onto linen, folded into cards, inked onto the page.

And this space fully stocked and organized is no longer imbued with expectation. Instead, it is a space for creative opportunity, ready and available for those magic moments. Then, my studio space comes alive with messy exploration and creative flow. Stashes become entangled, surfaces pile with stacks and layers, drawers empty and overflow. Inevitably, the rhythmic ebb enters my process, providing a necessary interruption into the beautiful mess. That's when my Creative Opportunity Space gets reorganized and cleaned— space clearing for my studio as well as my mind and soul.

I used to feel threatened when my creativity waned. But I've learned to trust the process— to welcome the rhythm, the long pauses and steady beats. When creative inspiration returns, I try not to question it. I trust its flow. I allow its magic to lead. It feels like intuition, a deep knowing, the truest thing. And I am learning that creative opportunity lives within these spaces in between.