Sometimes Stepping Away Is Part of the Work

I just got back from Italy. I did all of the things one does in Italy…pasta, Aperol spritz, a million steps, absorbed all of the art and culture, and didn’t work for even a minute.

Spotted: Pompeii nerd

Not working is usually pretty hard for me. I love what I do, and when you work for yourself there is always something you could be doing. An email to answer, a website to work on, something to write, a client problem to solve. Before I left, I was busy. I had a lot of projects on the go and a lot of ideas competing for space in my head.

I had no choice but to put it all on pause. I actually (like, for real), took a break for the first time in many years.

But as expected, when I came home, I was energized and excited to get back to work.

Not because I came home with a notebook full of brilliant business ideas inspired by Italy. I didn't. I think it was simply because I had given the part of my brain that is constantly creating, analyzing and problem solving a chance to stop doing those things for a while.

It made me think about how often I see the same thing with artists.

There is a lot of pressure to keep making. If you're serious about your art practice, you're supposed to be in the studio. If you're trying to build a career, you should be making new work, preparing the next collection, applying for opportunities, photographing paintings, posting on Instagram, updating your website and thinking about what comes next.

When things aren't going particularly well in the studio, the instinct can be to work harder. More hours. More paintings. More attempts to solve whatever isn't working.

Sometimes the work doesn't need more work. Sometimes it needs some distance.

I think we tend to define an art practice too narrowly. We count the hours spent painting, drawing, photographing or making as the productive part. Everything outside of that can start to feel like time away from the practice.

But an artist's practice is much bigger than the time spent physically making art.

Looking is part of it. Reading is part of it. Going to an exhibition, walking through a new neighbourhood, travelling, gardening, listening to music, having a conversation, learning about something completely unrelated to art, or simply having enough empty time to notice what you're interested in are all feeding the same practice.

That doesn't mean every vacation needs to become research for your next body of work. In fact, I think that defeats the purpose. You don't need to stand in front of a painting in a museum wondering how you're going to turn the experience into content later.

You can just experience the painting.

The useful part often happens much later anyway.

Something you noticed, a colour combination, an idea from a book, a landscape, a conversation or a completely unrelated obsession can work its way into the studio without you deliberately putting it there. Those influences are part of what makes the work yours.

I talk to artists a lot about developing a stronger voice in their work, and one of the challenges is that you can't manufacture a unique point of view simply by spending more hours in the studio. Your work is informed by what you pay attention to outside of it too.

There are obviously times when discipline matters. Sometimes you do need to go into the studio and do the work even when you don't particularly feel like it. Not every creative block is solved by booking a trip to Italy.

But I do think there is value in recognizing when pushing harder isn't producing anything better.

Taking a few days off doesn't mean you've lost momentum. Going on vacation doesn't make you less serious about your practice. Spending an afternoon doing something that has absolutely nothing to do with art isn't necessarily wasted time.

Sometimes you need enough distance from the thing you do every day to become curious about it again.

I came home from Italy grateful for the trip, very happy to sleep in my own bed, and genuinely excited to open my computer and get back to my clients. I don't have some grand creative revelation to report. I just feel ready to work again.

And I think that's a pretty good reminder that sometimes stepping away is part of the work.