My Creative Block is a Dog

I can’t believe it’s only been two weeks since I moved into my new home –  already I’m starting to feel settled. The box mountains surrounding my mattress are slowly getting smaller as I find small but ingenius ways to store all my stuff (shoe-rack under-desk art-supply shelving: hella yeah!) – and for the first time in about three years I have been able to set up my piano again, which I am so excited about!

I’ve been blessed with three charming housemates. I’ve managed to work out how the heating works. I’m even getting used to the sound of passing trains over the viaduct outside my bedroom window.

But still there’s a problem.

And that is I am feeling completely creatively dead.

bedroom

I keep thinking, it should be fine right? Sure there are still a few piles of teacups and odd things on my desk that haven’t found a proper home, and my room is still slightly chaotic, but that shouldn’t make a difference, should it? Yet somehow it does.

Creativity is a tempestuous beast. She’s a minx. One day she will fill you with inspired thought and you feel completely elated with how brilliant your imagination is… and the next day everything you’ve done before looks like poop, and you can stare at a page for hours with your mind a total, numbing blank. Creativity is so darned impetuous it needs to be petted and fussed over and coaxed into being, which I think means that any upheaval, even if it’s a positive change, is still such a shock to creative flow that it needs a lot of time to recalibrate and be comfortable again with its new surroundings. I’m making it sound like creativity is a very anxious and delicate old lapdog, with a weak stomach and neurotic tendencies, which is probably an apt description.

So what should I do? I have decided to beat it at it’s own game: by being mundane.

That doesn’t sound like much of a plan but apparently doing mundane tasks like cleaning, dusting, general tidying or walking to the shops allows your brain to switch its focus from the activity and rely on muscle memory to complete the task, letting your mind to wander off and be creative (Science!). So although my days don’t sound very interesting at the moment (ie. this morning I did the vaccuming and mopped the kitchen floor – woohoo!) I still feel like I have achieved something creatively, because I’m allowing my brain to resettle in it’s new environment and find its happy place. I am, essentially, petting the crazy lapdog and telling it that it’s okay, this place is safe for you to do your thing.

Go nuts.

 

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