Creative blocks and burnout – How do you keep going when inspiration fades, or when the world doesn’t seem to care?
One answer is to stop trying to “keep going” in the way you think you should. That’s the first thing. Pivot, try something new.
I’ve hit those walls—where nothing comes, where everything feels flat, where the world shrugs and your work disappears into the void. And the worst part isn’t the silence out there - it’s the voice in here that starts asking, What’s the point?
Truth be told, there isn’t any point. You have to pick your own point. The expression "What's the point?" meaning "What is the purpose or reason?" has its roots in the word "point" which originally meant "a small mark or dot" and evolved to encompass the concept of purpose or objective. So where is the target, the bullseye I am shooting for? In art it is always a moving target and it is always your own chosen target.
When you have lost the point I call this an ‘image crisis’. This used to happen to me after a fertile fervor of inspiration working along one-pointedly discovering all the angles of an idea. But then, maybe after a few months or a few years it feels like you have come to an end. Then what? Coming to an end point can be frightening. ‘Now what?’ you ask yourself.
When that happened, it made me feel depressed and directionless and without purpose. You can’t force yourself forward when your heart no longer wants to go in that direction. I discovered that forcing things wasn’t going to work. So, I just stopped and listened.
The blockage isn’t the enemy - but it is a signal. Sometimes it’s your body asking for rest. Sometimes it’s your soul saying, You’re off track. Sometimes it’s just winter, and you need to get quiet for a while. I’ve learned not to fight it. I let the silence do its work.
But I don’t give up and go numb either. I keep moving, just slower. I assume I must be getting ready for something else. So, I clean the studio, reorganize and get ready. Take long walks and importantly experiment with some other trails, ask other questions. I let my hands remember they like to move. Let my eyes find beauty in ordinary things. Sometimes I just sit, breathe, and wait.
If you stop and look back over what you have been doing you might find there was a new direction back there that was opening a new door and you weren’t ready to notice it. If you see it, stick your head in and poke around. Putter on some things. Experiment for a while. Eventually you will have an Aha! moment.
One thing I found is that you have to keep the motor running even if it is just on idle. Once the motor gets cold it is harder to get it back up and running. Or, to use another metaphor, it’s time to push things to the back burner for a while and just let them simmer while you do some other things that you have probably been neglecting.
The thing is—burnout doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’ve stepped past your limit. And sometimes that’s part of the path. You burn out, then you learn how to burn cleaner. With less friction, less resistance. More clarity, more flow. You learn how to change your rhythm to one that is more sustainable.
As for the world not caring - that’s a gift, too, in disguise. When nobody’s looking, you can make anything you want. No expectations, no applause, no pressure. Just you and the raw material of your being. That’s where the best work comes from, if you let it.
Kurt Schwitters once said something to the effect that the greatest day of his life was when he realized nobody cared about what he was doing. It set him free.
I’ve come to trust the cycle. Inspiration fades, and then returns, if you don’t chase it. You just need to stay open, stay curious, and stop measuring yourself by productivity or praise from others.
Some days I make art. Some days I just make soup. Or I write, or read, or go out and do something. It’s all part of creating a sustainable rhythm.
Then after a break, you reestablish your routines maybe at a slower pace and without so many expectations. Like I say; “Expect nothing and you will never be disappointed.”
I love the "Keep the motor running, even if it's just on idle. Once the motor gets cold, it is harder to get it back up and running." Recently (like this week) I read that even if you right a paragraph a day, keep it going, something written, every day. I put your motor running quote in my One Line a Day Five Year Memory book for April 9.
I love the Kurt Schwitters quote! I tell my husband that all the time. Let's just make stuff. No one cares. We care. That's good enough. In fact, we can't stop making stuff, it's who we are and it's not about anyone else caring. Sometimes, the stuff is good and sometimes it's meh, but it's the making, and that feels good. Thanks for this piece.