Living With Creative Stillness

Let’s talk about something difficult today. What is it? Living with creative stillness.

Creative stillness is usually one of the worst things that can befall an artist. But I’ve lived with creative stillness many times during my life. Because of that, I’ve discovered some precious, silver linings among the clouds.

Today, I want to share those silver linings with those among us who may also be living in creative stillness.

But first, I have a confession to make.

Living With Creative Stillness

There have been long periods when I didn’t create any new artwork, and didn’t care.

In fact, had it not been for the blog and magazine, I probably would have done nothing at all with drawing or painting during those times.

Sure, I felt twinges of guilt every now and again, but overall, I enjoyed the lack of pressure so much, guilt didn’t stand a chance!

It used to be impossible to foresee a future when I wasn’t painting. Even the one time I deliberately took six months off, I never doubted that I’d paint again, although the six months stretched into a year by the time I went back to the easel.

Now?

Living with Creative Stillness

There have been times when I’ve wondered if my days of creating fine art were over. For example, it used to be easy to set art goals. One new drawing a month. That was the standard goal and easy to meet.

These days, I’m happy just to sit down and draw. Having no portraits to do doesn’t bother me like it used to. The idea doesn’t raise terrible specters.

Nor does it cause guilt or pain. A little sadness, maybe, but nothing more.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved portrait painting. I loved my clients, the places I traveled and the horses I saw, touched, smelled, and was awed by. Nearly 40 years of painting pictures of other people’s horses for fun and profit is a great experience and I’m grateful for it.

But if it’s over, I’m okay with that, too.

Why?

Because the studio wasn’t the only place I’ve experienced creative stillness. Fiction writing went on hiatus, too. It’s been years, now, since I last worked on a story.

Not My Own

I learned through the months that my ideas about what I do with “my” talents and interests isn’t always up to me. Sure, my personal interests have an impact on what I choose as subjects and how I do drawings, paintings, and sketches based on those choices.

But there is also a greater Source—the place from which all good and noble ideas come—and He wants a say in what I do.

Personally, I think I got to the point where I was too comfortable in my ability to paint pictures. I got too full of myself, you could say.

So I was taken outside of that place of Adequacy and Ability and put in a place of stillness.

Learning to Embrace the Stillness

The time has been well spent. As I’ve thought about, prayed over, and explored the creative silence, I’ve come to realize how much control I exerted over the studio and how closed I’d become to doing anything outside my comfort zone.

And believe me, this creative silence is so far outside my comfort zone, I can’t even see the comfort zone!

I’m learning to just be. Not to push so hard or demand so much.

I’ve also learned that I can teach others what I know. Talk about a fresh and new idea, something I only dabbled with before the creative silence. Now, it’s a primary source of pleasure and income. There’s something about seeing a new student gain skill and enjoyment in his or her work that painting a well-crafted portrait could never provide.

So I’m Living with Creative Stillness

Do I miss portrait painting and everything it entailed? Yes. Even the hard stuff.

Will I be sad if I never paint another portrait? Yes.

But I no longer grieve. Why? I believe with every fiber of my soul that I will be given something to replace portrait painting. Something far better and far more exciting. Something for which living in creative stillness has been the preparation.

You know what?

I can’t wait to see what it is!

Update

I first wrote and published this post in 2015, in the middle of one of those periods of creative stillness that I mentioned above. In 2020, God gave me the new thing to replace portrait painting; CP Magic! magazine.

I still have periods of creative stillness, even with the magazine. But if I’ve learned nothing else through all the years of being an artist, it’s to be patient.

And be ready for new things!

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