How to Begin Making Art Again

Maybe it's been six months since you made anything, maybe six years. And yet you still notice the colors. You still save the things that inspire you, and you'll pick up a scrap of paper off the sidewalk because you love the way the edge is torn. You stop dead in front of a perfect combination of colors, and you wander the art-supply aisle even though you absolutely do not need anything. (Just looking. Sure.) The creative part of you is still right there, waving at you from across the room.

It stinks that somewhere along the way, making art turned into something you used to do, and simply began to feel too hard. Maybe you think you need an idea first, or a brand-new sketchbook, or one glorious afternoon with nothing else on the calendar. Or are you the one that collected so many supplies that just choosing which one to use feels like being asked to pick a favorite child. And then there's that little voice: What am I making? What if I mess it up? I don't even know where to start.

I know that voice, trust me, she sits on my shoulder plenty. That's why I've been thinking a lot about how creativity actually begins, and I don't think it starts with knowing what you're making. I think it starts much, much smaller than that.

Start with one thing

The other morning I sat down with my journal and no plan at all. It had already been one heck of a morning, and I didn't have a big creative idea waiting for me. I just knew I wanted color and to release my frustration. So I grabbed some green-gold paint and put it on the page, and that was the whole assignment. Then I picked up a blue Neocolor crayon and dragged a line right through it, and suddenly I had something to respond to. That one little choice handed me the next one, and that one handed me another, like a friendly relay race where nobody's keeping score.

That's very often how I use my art journal: pick a color, make a mark, add something unexpected, and see where it takes you. I'm not deciding what the finished piece should look like or trying to make something worthy a million views. I'm not even trying to make something good. I'm just making the first mark.

You don't have to know where you're going

I think this is where we make creativity harder than it needs to be. We want to see the destination before we're willing to start the car. But what if the point isn't to carry out an idea you already have? What if the making is how you find the idea?

So put down some paint. Tear a piece of paper. Draw a scribbly circle (the wonkier the better, honestly). Stitch through paper and magazine clippings, and add the color you're not sure belongs there. Then sit back and look, and ask yourself, What does it need now? Did you notice what i just said, that is a completely different question from What am I making?And it's so much easier to answer. It's the difference between being handed a blank map and being asked which way the path wants to bend.

You probably don't need more art supplies

I love art supplies. Let's just get that on the record! But I promise you, another pen, another paintbrush, or another gorgeous sketchbook (the kind so pretty you're afraid to touch it) is probably not the thing standing between you and your creativity.

Use what's already around you. A scrap of junk mail. An old book page. A grocery bag. A pencil. A bit of paint from your palette or scraps. A piece of fabric, or that weird little treasure you've been saving for years because you loved it and had absolutely no idea why. Start there, because creativity doesn't require the right materials, it just requires using something.

Make marks, not masterpieces

If I could tattoo one idea on the inside of your eyelids, it would be this one. If you haven't created in a while, please don't make your first job "making art." That's far too much pressure for a Thursday. Make a mark instead, and then make another. Give yourself fifteen minutes, set a timer, and give yourself full permission to stop when it goes off. You don't even have to finish the page. (The page will survive. Pages are tougher than we think.)

And please don't worry about whether it's your "style." You don't need to have that yet. Your style starts showing itself once you've made enough choices to notice what you keep coming back to: the colors you reach for, the marks your hand makes when nobody's supervising, the materials you can't stop touching, the combinations that make you think, Oh. I like THAT. Those little choices are you, and the only way to discover them is by making.

So if you've been waiting to feel creative again, maybe don't wait. Grab one thing. Pick a color. Make a mark. Then see what happens.

Maybe you don't need to find your creativity. Maybe you just need to use it.

xo, Amy