I am writing this based on some thoughts related to the article Things Accumulate: The Art of Slow, Steady Growth.
The Power of Boredom in the Creative Process
Slow, steady growth may sound boring at first glance, especially when you focus on the words 'slow' and 'steady.' But let me take a moment to address the idea of boredom, because it is often an underappreciated force in the creative journey. Boredom, at its core, is a product of disengagement—a lack of involvement or enthusiasm. It creeps in when things no longer hold our attention, and it usually points to one of two things: impatience or ease.
Impatience often arises from one of two places: either we lack a comfortable understanding of what we're doing, or we're so familiar with it that we start to feel like there's nothing new to discover. The former causes us to rush to half baked conclusions, while the latter leads us to seek novelty. But before we jump ahead, perhaps it’s time to slow down and take a step back, and consider the power of patience in this process.
In my experience, I’ve often said that “patience is a virtue that can only be developed once you’ve run out of it.” It’s an important truth, and one that speaks directly to the crux of creativity and artistic growth. When we first start on any artistic journey, we often lack the patience required to develop our skills. Our impatience might cause us to seek shortcuts or to look for quick results, instead of letting the process unfold naturally in its own time. However, as time goes on, our patience is tested and we @are faced with the choice to either persist or give up.
Here’s the secret: patience is not a passive waiting game. It’s an active practice and discipline, a superpower, especially in the arts. Patience allows us to develop a deeper skill set, endure the inevitable hardships, and quiet the noise of our minds so we can hear our intuitive insights. It helps us clear our hearts, make room for contemplation, and foster a peaceful atmosphere that nurtures growth. With patience, we also build endurance—endurance that allows us to overcome boredom and push through the mundane moments that are often integral to the creative process.
The key to overcoming boredom, especially in creative pursuits, is recognizing boredom as an opportunity rather than an obstacle. Boredom, when it arises, is often a signal that our current creative practice is no longer engaging us. This is precisely when it becomes an excellent opportunity to cultivate patience. Instead of running away from the feeling, embrace it. Boredom often emerges when we feel we’ve mastered something—or perhaps when things have become too easy, too predictable. And that’s when it’s time to delve deeper.
Sometimes, boredom is a signal that our work is no longer presenting us with enough challenge. If what we’re doing no longer engages us, it’s time to ask deeper questions: What am I looking for? What am I trying to express in my creative process? Where can I push further and deeper?
Creativity thrives on new challenges. As artists and creators, we must continually seek new obstacles to overcome, new questions to explore, and new unknowns to discover. These unknowns don’t have to be grand, world-changing revelations—they simply need to be personal, unique to you and your path. Creativity flourishes when we venture into uncharted territory, confronting the things we don’t yet understand. That’s where growth happens: in the unexplored, in the previously ungraspable.
It’s this very dynamic that can lead to what I refer to as an "Image Crisis." An Image Crisis occurs when the images and creative practices that once resonated with us no longer have the same impact. Perhaps we’ve reached the limits of the approach we’ve been using, or the themes we’ve been exploring no longer feel connected to our intuition. This is a significant turning point in an artist’s journey. It’s the moment when you realize that what you’ve been doing, or the direction you’ve been heading, is no longer relevant to where you are now.
Interestingly, an Image Crisis is not a rare phenomenon—it can happen on a larger, cultural scale as well. Sometimes, the entire art community will face this moment of reckoning, often triggered by shifts in culture, technology, or generational perspectives. When a major upheaval causes society at large to question its previous values or assumptions, it’s only natural that the art world follows suit. The once-comfortable practices and accepted norms suddenly feel outdated, and new questions begin to emerge about what comes next. What was once cutting edge may now seem antiquated, and the need for a new creative direction becomes apparent.
Just as an artist may experience this shift individually, the larger community undergoes its own collective Image Crisis. The winds of change begin to blow, and what once worked no longer feels resonant. In these moments, the question becomes: how do we move forward?
For an artist, the courage to confront an Image Crisis is not easy. It may require us to move beyond our previous investments of time and energy, to let go of the comfort of familiarity, and to ask new, updated questions. It’s a time of uncertainty, yes—but it is also a time of immense opportunity. When what we have been creating no longer connects with our intuition, it’s a sign that the landscape has changed, and we must learn to navigate toward a new frontier.
Boredom, in this context, is a warning signal. It’s telling us that we’ve entered a new landscape, one where the previous creative tools may no longer suffice. But this doesn’t need to be feared. In fact, it is a call to action. It’s time to adapt, to rethink, and to engage in new ways of thinking. Boredom can be the fire alarm that sparks the creative breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. It is a moment of transformation—a call to stretch our patience and push through to something new.
In conclusion, slow and steady growth may seem boring at times, but in those moments of boredom lie opportunities for deep reflection, reinvention, and creative awakening. Boredom is not a void to be avoided; it is a fertile space for growth. By developing patience, being willing to embrace challenges, and to confront moments of artistic crisis, we can turn those periods of stagnation into powerful moments of transformation. So the next time boredom sets in, rather than running from it, lean into it. It may be the signal that your next great adventure is waiting on the other side.
Great essay again! For me there's both elation and sadness when I finish a piece. Happy it's done and I can sign it and look at it, put it up, but sad if there's nothing waiting for me to work on/finish. I'm done. Impatient to start the next thing which often won't come to me for days. I've learned to respect the pause, the break and may not even go into the studio for days. Or I'll go thrifting for quality junk for the assemblages and that helps. If I do go into the studio too soon, I will grow not bored but frustrated that nothing is coming to me. If I make myself sit beyond the frustration and just wait, play with the myriad of objects surrounding me, eventually the void opens up and something happens. But I have to open my mind, be patient (not easy for me), and be quiet and not leave. And not allow myself any diversions like heading to the computer to putz around there.
Great one! Thanks! Though I haven't had a chance yet to be bored.