Let’s talk about a phenomenon I’m sure we all know too well—Substack writer, Isabel, calls it "open-loop creativity drain." It’s that dopamine hit you get from imagining big ideas without ever doing anything about them. You know the feeling: plotting, concepting, basking in your own brilliance. And then… nothing. You’re stuck. Stuck because ideating feels like the reward. Stuck because the confidence to actually execute shrinks the longer the idea sits. Stuck because what could be…is so much work?? Pathologizing the creative process (and pretty much everything else) is very much my thing, so indulge me and let's get into it. 

Creativity's Catch-22

Here’s the thing about “creativity” when it's also your day job: it isn’t just about making things. It's about keeping enough of yourself in reserve to make things that matter to you on and off the clock. When creativity is your job, it’s easy to give it all away—to clients, deadlines, and endless brainstorms—until there’s nothing left for yourself. The spark that led you here in the first place can start to dim, buried under the weight of everyone else’s priorities.

There are days when ideas flow faster than I can catch them...beautiful, ephemeral, almost limitless. And then there are the other days. The ones when a blank page feels less like possibility and more like judgment. When all I can do is scroll through other people's finished work, wondering if I'll ever find my way back to that creative rush again. Sound familiar?

Here’s where it gets tricky: the ability to imagine and to see what isn’t there yet, is often what makes us good at what we do. But, Imagination says, “Take your time. Dream a little longer.” And while dreaming is essential, the dream doesn’t finish the draft, pay the bills or most importantly, allow these ideas to live in the world with us as tangible things to experience. It’s the action, the awkward, clumsy, messy kind, that breathes life into ideas. (ugh, annoying right?)

Getting Unstuck

For me, feelings of ‘stuckness’ hit in waves —a little existential (like, am I always going to feel this way?) and a little practical (I need a little inspiration for this thing, ASAP). I keep reminding myself that context matters; pandemic isolation, having a kid, navigating single parenthood, and trading Brooklyn's buzzy energy for Chicago’s familiar streets all made for the perfect storm of creative disorientation. In other words: life and all the things that can pull you away from the rhythms and rituals that steady you. But that disorientation eventually came with the strong realization that I needed to protect my creative energy and carve out spaces for the things that remind me of why I started in the first place. I had to start thinking about creativity less as a lightning-in-a-bottle, fleeting thing that only thrives under certain conditions and more as a discipline that needs to adapt to the ebbs and flows of what my life requires of me.

To find my groove again, I decided to start with connection—to people and to spaces that felt like they could restore the rhythm I had been aimlessly searching for.

Cue AdColor 2024. Walking into that conference was like opening the windows in a room that had been closed too long. The energy was infectious, and suddenly I remembered, oh right, this is what it feels like. I forgot I knew so many people. Running into past colleagues and creative collaborators felt like finding missing puzzle pieces. I even bumped into my old creative partner from college; we laughed about being the only two femmes of color in our program, opting to work with each other at any given opportunity and always hyping each other to the finish line.

AdColor reminded me about the many ways that creativity thrives in connection. It’s sparked by shared stories, nurtured in collaboration, and sustained by environments that challenge and uplift you. The discipline of being creative isn’t just about doing the work—it’s about building the ecosystems that make the work possible.

Lessons from the AdColor Stage

While community is essential, there are still those quiet moments when it's just you and your ideas, trying to find your way forward. Enter Jovian Zayne, Founder of the OnPurpose Movement. She’s also working on a book titled Soft Landings for Hard Days—a fitting extension of her message at AdColor. Her session, "The Discipline of Being Creative: How to Purposefully Protect Your Creativity in Challenging Times," could not have hit at a better time for me. Her session wasn't about finding inspiration through osmosis, it was about getting your hands dirty and building creative habits that hold up even when life feels like a mess.

Here are some of her guiding principles that stuck with me:

1. Audit Your Inputs
   
   Creativity doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It’s shaped by what we consume, who we listen to, and how we spend our time. If I think about my creative mind as a garden – what was I letting grow there? Jovian emphasized the importance of pausing to ask, "Who has access to you? Who are you listening to, and why?"
   
   I’ve started doing regular check-ins about what I’m reading, watching, and absorbing. Taking inventory of my inputs has helped me make sense of my energy, and make steps to reclaim it when needed.

2. Progress > Perfection
   
   We all have that project sitting in drafts, waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect execution. The most powerful creative acts aren’t perfect. They’re honest. They’re real. Jovian reminded us to give ourselves grace for showing up, even if the work isn’t flawless. Because showing up, again and again, is what makes progress even possible.
   
   For me, this looks like keeping track of completed work, no matter how small. Even tiny steps forward count – they’re still steps and a win is a win, okay?
   

3. Disrupting Fear
   
   Fear is a natural part of creativity. In the oh so relatable words of Erykah Badu, “I’m an artist, I’m sensitive about my shit”. Consistently putting your ideas and work into the world for others to experience can feel vulnerable and scary, and that shadow can loom over everything. But instead of trying to outrun it, Jovian encouraged us to confront it head-on. "Speak to your fear," she said. Acknowledge it. Sit with it. And then, most importantly, act anyway. 
   
   When self doubt creeps in, I try to acknowledge it, then gently remind myself that fear usually means I’m doing something new, I’m exploring new territory– and that's exactly where I need to be.

4. Anchor Yourself in Purpose
   
   Finding purpose isn't about grand manifestos or mission statements. It's about creating consistent reminders of why you create in the first place. Jovian asked us to find small, everyday rituals that reconnect us to that feeling of purpose. 
   
   I’ve got an iNote on my phone with a list of things I want to make, just for the joy of it. No metrics, no agenda. Sometimes it's as simple as sketching out an idea or writing a sentence or two during my morning coffee. Is it groundbreaking? Depends on the day. Does it keep me connected to why I create? It definitely helps.

So, What’s Next?

Here's what I'm learning about creative blocks, closing open loops, and all the uncharted spaces in between: they're not detours from living a “creative life”—they are life. Every person you admire has felt stuck, started over, and wondered if they were on the right path.

But we keep it moving, and we keep making things. Not because we're fearless or perfectly disciplined. I remind myself daily that there is no way to try perfectly. We keep making things because creating is how we make sense of the world. Even when it's difficult. Especially when it's difficult.

We’re all perpetual works in progress, so here’s to having the nerve to start, the patience to keep going when it feels hard, and the wisdom to call it good enough when we’ve done our best—or at least something. Brb, I have some imperfect creating to do. And maybe you do too.