Five Things I Did This Summer to Get Un-Stuck and Grow My Creative Practice
Today is the Fall Equinox, the official end of summer. It feels like the right moment to pause and notice what the last season cracked open for me. This wasn’t a summer of beaches and margaritas, it was a summer of turning 40, shifting my work, and finding ways to keep moving when I sometimes wanted to stall out. Here are five things I did that helped me get un-stuck and grow my creative practice.
1. I Said “F*ck it.”
I jumped into the Pacific Ocean in my underwear.
I posted reels that weren’t polished or perfect.
I bought a smartwatch to track my steps and sleep (I’m still getting over not loving the look of it, but, you know, baby steps).
It’s been a tough year of national and global news, so I started small rebellions that reminded me that momentum and movement mattered more than polish and ease.
2. Goodbye Office, Hello Studio.
I traded my (desk in-a-closet) office for a studio in an effort to form a new container for my next chapter of work and career.
I dragged furniture around with a $20 dolly, put together a huge whiteboard, and covered the walls with post-its. I turned a large living room that once belonged to Bruno’s parents into my space for thinking, moving, creating, and dancing.
It’s not downtown, hip, and near cool cafes and restaurants, but it has insane views of the desert. I’m able to be a steward of this space and place and continue to do my best to keep my late father in-law’s many house plants alive and well.
3. I “Ate” in France.
I turned 40 in the Loire Valley. It wasn’t a vacation; it was a return.
I woke up to a croissant and a secret stack of handwritten letters from friends, smuggled to Bruno before our trip. That morning, loved on paper and across decades, became the most beautiful and meaningful birthday gift I have ever received.
Those card also gave me something else: a reason to slow down and write back. The remainder of the summer, after coming home to Arizona, I bought cards and stamps and hand-wrote replies to each friend, some I hadn’t caught up with in years. Sitting down to write them felt grounding, and I hope to continue to use the USPS to maintain friendships in the months to come.
I also saw a ton of incredible art.
David Hockney’s exhibit exhausted me - in a good way. It showed me what relentless creation looked like: the kind of output that said, “I create because I must.” His long career included embraces of technology (iPad to be exact), and his playfulness with people, landscapes, and theatre is such a triumph.
Richard Avedon’s American West made me cry (which, I know, isn’t hard, but still). His stark B&W portraits of working-class people in 1985 (if ya’ do the math - same age as me) were stunning visuals of how little America has changed, and how much is still refused to see the people struggling to hold it (and themselves) up.
4. I Saw Beyoncé. Again.
The conversation of the past few/several years is always about how Beyoncé (like Taylor Swift and others) is a pop star/billionaire/businesswoman.
But these labels flatten her because she is - first and foremost - an artist. And a brilliant one, at that. Cowboy Carter used music, performance, dance, visuals, and historical references to tell the truth about Black history, American culture, and her version of the American South.
This show as so far beyond solely entertainment. It was cultural commentary; it was history in motion; it was art that so deeply spoke to the present moment.
I left Atlanta filled with inspiration around what art and artists can do for the world, as a mirror and as a bold statement.
5. I Began With Friends.
I offered my strategic brain to three maker / founder friends who run a boutique here in Tucson. No contracts; no invoice; just “Can I help?”
We mapped financial goals, systems, and impact before their retreat. They left with clarity; I left with proof-of-concept.
My so-called “target audience” wasn’t a bullet point on a slide deck. It was people with skin in the game. People who keep their artistic business alive. People who need(ed) strategy not to scale to the moon, but make this next month/quarter feel possible.
I don’t quite feel like I’m starting over. Instead, I spent a lot of the summer seeing what is already here: art, friends, space(s), connection. I’m letting that be enough and I’m looking forward to continued momentum and movement into Fall and the rest of the year.
