This morning, I took a nap on the couch during what is usually my most productive part of the day. There were several reasons for this. The first was that I was up at 4 AM to take the high school cross country team I coach to a cross-training workout at our local pool. (A workout I also did.) The second was that it was grey and rainy outside – weather that tends to sap my motivation on even the best of days. But the biggest reason is that I’m in the stage of my creative process that requires rest.
This summer, I gave myself a massive goal. I was going to write, edit, and FINISH a book proposal by the first week of September. I had some accountability baked in (a meeting with a publishing insider) but still, it was a massive goal. And I did it. I wrote, rewrote, and edited over 80 pages of brand new writing. I put together a thing that I’m incredibly proud of.
To say I’m tired now would be an understatement. Especially when you add in the state of the world and the fact that coaching high school cross country is not for the faint of heart. (I had 21k steps at our meet on Saturday, and I wasn’t even racing!) So despite feeling the pressure to get back to work, I’m finding my motivation a little lacking.
The lovely Tara Leaver calls this the Afterslump. That period of time after you finish a major creative project and you just can’t bring yourself to work on whatever is next. Or perhaps, you don’t even know what’s next. Either way, for artists and makers who are used to doing things, the Afterslump can feel particularly hard.
But what if, instead of bemoaning the Afterslump, we recognized it as a natural part of our creative process? What if we acknowledged what the Afterslump really is, a call for rest?
The other day, I made this entirely unscientific diagram to show the creative process:
Though in reality, it probably looks more like this:
Regardless of which way the arrows go, I think it’s important to acknowledge all the non-making parts that go into the creative process.
I’ve talked about gathering here before. I did a lot of it as I was preparing to write my book proposal. Gathering is the very real, very essential task of taking on inspiration. Gathering looks different for every creative. For me, it’s reading, going to museums, looking at images, and surrounding myself with plants. For others, it might be walks in the woods or sourcing supplies, whether that’s at an art supply store, a thrift shop, or a junkyard.
Gathering doesn’t always have to be in service of a specific project. You can gather even if you don’t know where you’re going. In her excellent book The Extended Mind, Annie Murphy Paul argues that our brains are like magpies, pulling in disparate sources and weaving them together in new and unexpected ways. This is especially true for creatives. It’s hard to create from a place of emptiness and gathering is what gives us fuel (literally and imaginatively) for the journey.
Creating is the part we all recognize, the thing we acknowledge as core to our being as artists and makers. But here too, I want to pause for a moment. Because when you only view the creative process as creating, not only do you feel like the other parts of the process are a waste of time, you start to question your identity if you aren’t creating. This leads to a lot of unnecessary guilt. But when we acknowledge that the actual act of creating is only part of the process, we can lean into the other essential elements that make creating possible.
One of those essential parts is reflecting. Reflecting can happen in small moments in the studio: taking a moment to be proud of a really well-executed solder joint or spending an hour on the couch staring at a painting, trying to decide where it can go next. Or it can happen at the end of a creative project: taking stock of a body of work on display in your studio, a gallery, or a show booth, or going back through your book proposal one final time to make sure it’s tight. (Ok, that last one is very specific to my life right now, but you get the idea.)
Reflecting isn’t about berating yourself when things aren’t perfect or even about endlessly tweaking and never releasing things out into the world. Instead, reflecting is a pause that helps answer the question, “where do I want to go next?” In those smaller moments, reflecting usually leads back into the studio, back to creating. But in those larger moments, reflecting is a way to assess a completed project, to decide what you’re happy with, what you might change if you could do it all over again, and what you want to take with you into the next project.
One of the challenges with reflecting at the end of a project is that we’re often just so damn tired. Whether it’s writing this book proposal, finishing work for an exhibition, or setting up a trade show, I can’t tell you how many times I felt like I limped across the finish line. Forget reflecting, I just want to sleep. And this is exactly where resting comes in.
Resting is as essential to the creative process as any other part. And resting can look different for every creative. It might mean lots of naps, or binge-watching trashy TV, or ugly crying on your couch. It might be booking yourself a vacation or just turning off your phone and hiding in your bedroom. There’s no magic timeline for rest either. Rest can happen in the midst of a creative cycle (in the form of actually letting yourself sleep each night or taking a nap in the middle of the day) and it can happen at the end when you’ve finished a major project. You might need a few days to recover or, depending on the scope of the project, a few months. It’s amazing how much a major creative effort can deplete our physical, mental, or emotional energy stores.
Resting is also the hardest part for creatives (ok, really for most people) because rest is frowned upon in a capitalist society. You can’t get paid for or make money off of rest. But rest is essential, not just for creatives, but for all humans. We need it, or we go haywire.
It’s so easy to feel like we need to go from one creative project directly to the next, but that’s a recipe for burnout. Even jumping right back into gathering after creating can be a recipe for disaster, as gathering also takes energy. I know honoring the part of the creative process that calls for rest can be hard. There’s the pressure to make money and the pressure to feel like we’re being productive all the time.
There are also feelings of guilt. Who am I to be napping when my husband is at work and the other two cross country coaches (who are teachers) are stuck in class all day? But as I’ve said before, we (artists and makers) cannot fix the problems of capitalism by exploiting our own labor. Instead, we can resist capitalism’s grueling and inhumane pace by making space for all parts of the creative process, including rest.
After I took my nap, I ate some leftover pizza (yes, at 10 AM, because swimming makes me hungry) and then sat down and wrote this post. That little bit of rest was exactly what I needed to sort out the ideas that have been floating around in my brain the last few days.
And that’s the power of honoring all parts of the creative process. I could have pushed through, forced myself to sit at my laptop, and struggle with words. But that little bit of rest made every part of writing this easier. Beyond this little micro-moment of rest, I’m also working to honor my bigger need for rest after a major creative project. My book proposal is done, and now I’m in the awkward waiting stage that happens with traditional publishing. I don’t know if and when the next steps will happen. And despite feeling pressure to figure out what to do next, I’m giving myself over to the other side of the creative process. But rather than thinking of it as an Afterslump, I’m simply thinking of it as a time for rest, to get myself ready for whatever comes next. (Which, fingers crossed, is getting to write the actual book!)
In our monthly Q&A call yesterday for Artists and Profit Makers, several members expressed concern about not being able to get out of the resting stage. There’s a real fear that if we take a break, all our momentum will be gone. But the reality is, our momentum might not come back as soon as we want, because we are all in desperate need of rest. I know myself well enough by now to know that, when it’s time to move out of rest, I’ll be able to start gathering again. I’ll suddenly feel motivated to pick up a new project. But I’m not there yet, and that’s ok. Instead of pushing through, I’m embracing rest, trusting the creative process, and knowing that the other stages will come back to me in time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I know that navigating all the parts of your creative process while also feeling the pressure to make money can be A LOT. Especially when you don’t feel like you have anyone who understands what you’re going through. Which is exactly why I created Artists and Profit Makers! I wanted to create a space to talk about the delicate balance between making art and making money, and to help you succeed at doing both! Artists and Profit Makers is an online mentorship space with a private forum, exclusive trainings, and monthly Q&A calls where I answer your burning creative business questions. (And I also rant a little and help members through the mental hurdles that are holding them back!)
There’s no monthly commitment with A&PM and you can join at any time! But, I am raising the price of membership at the end of the month! So if you want to check it out and lock in the current price for as long as you’re a member, head to artistsandprofitmakers.com for all the details and to sign up now!
