It's just the truth your calendar has been telling you all along: your calendar shows your priorities, whether or not you chose them on purpose.

Most art goals die in February. Not because people don't care, but because they're built on the two shakiest foundations there are: motivation, and outcomes. Flip both, and the goal sticks. Here's the version that actually works: rely on discipline instead of motivation, and set activity goals instead of outcome goals. That's the whole post. Everything below is the why and the how.

It sounds like a lack of ideas. Sometimes it is. But often, that sentence is covering up a different problem. Maybe you’re afraid of choosing the wrong idea. Maybe your ideas are too large for the time available or require a setup you can’t easily use today. Or maybe you’re waiting to feel certain before you begin. You can collect another hundred ideas and still be unable to choose one.

A creative challenge is a defined creative commitment with a beginning, an end, and a payoff for finishing. It might ask you to draw every day for a month, complete one unfinished project, or follow a series of steps that helps you get back to making art. That structure is part of the appeal. A creative challenge can help you build a habit, make progress on something you have avoided, or get past the blank page. The problem is that the challenge itself can become another b

What if your art block isn’t actually a lack of creativity? Sometimes you don’t need another idea. Sometimes (I'd say most times) another idea actually won't help. What do you need instead? You need time, space, a clear next step, or a break from the running commentary in your own head.

"I used to make art." Sometimes it's painting. Sometimes quilting, pottery, sewing, knitting, or keeping a sketchbook. The medium changes, but the sentiment doesn't. I've heard that sentence hundreds of times. People think they’ve lost their creativity. I don’t think that’s what’s happened. I think they lost their rhythm. I know, because I did too.

Showing up matters. I’m a big believer in sitting in the seat, lowering your expectations, and being willing to make imperfect art. But I also want my studio time to count.

For a long time, I treated studio time for artists as optional. It was something I would get to after I had taken care of everything and everyone else. In other words, I treated it like leftover time. The problem was...there was rarely anything left over. The Real Problem With “I’ll Get to It” Creating is a form of self-care, and that kind of time tends to be the first thing to go when life gets busy. Why? Because studio time is usually beholden to no one but o