I used to walk past plants without noticing. Now, I do my best to greet as many as I can by name.
That shift didn’t happen all at once. It happened over years, by slowing down, by paying attention, by letting beauty interrupt me. Living like an artist, for me, is about that kind of attention. It’s not about being productive, or profound. It’s about staying close to what’s alive.
These days, one of the things that feeds me is a daily art practice. Not just writing, but the way I move through the world with intention.
I don’t always get it right. But these are ten daily creative rituals I return to when I’m overwhelmed, I’m disconnected, or want to remember who I am.
Maybe one of them will meet you where you are. Or maybe you have your own list? I would love to hear what works for you.
1. I make art before I consume it.
I start the day with my own voice. Before I let in the noise of the world, I write. Even ten minutes of presence is enough to shift everything.
2. I honor routine as ritual.
Ritual doesn’t cage me—it roots me. Whether it’s tea before writing, a morning walk, or touching the earth, my body knows when it’s time to arrive.
3. I protect time for making.
I set boundaries around solitude and connection. I guard my creative hours like sacred appointments. I spend time with people who respect that.
4. I share my creative path.
I mark milestones. I attend to the business of art by responding to requests, saying yes to aligned collaborations, supporting other artists by engaging with and paying for their work.
5. I tell the truth on the page.
Even when it’s uncomfortable, and especially when I can’t yet say it out loud. Especially then. The more I write the truth, the more my voice becomes a home I can live in.
6. I feed my senses.
I let beauty in through my skin, my breath, my muscles. I stay close to the earth and to animals. Sunlight, scent, water, texture, these are my teachers.
7. I let rest shape me.
I no longer wait until I’m broken to pause. I rest because I am an animal, not a machine. Fallow times are fertile times, too.
8. I follow what calls me.
I stay curious. I track what keeps tugging, whether that’s images, creatures, phrases, or other obsessions. My fingerprint is found in what I can’t stop noticing.
9. I keep learning how I learn.
I read. I listen. I stay in conversation with the field. I learn from ancestors and contemporaries, not to copy, but to honor and grow inside the work.
10. I stay emotionally available.
I make art not just about emotion, but from it. I let myself soften. I stay with what’s alive, even when it aches.
Miner's lettuce often grows in cool shade after spring rain, offering one of the first wild greens of the season. I recognize them by their small green umbrellas. Tender, mild, and shaped like a heart pierced by its own stem, miner’s lettuce reminds me: nourishment often arrives quietly.
Not everything that feeds us is loud.
I am here to live a life of depth. To meet myself with the tenderness I once begged for, to pour my presence into the land, the trees, the pages, the people who reciprocate.
I am the keeper of my own wellbeing. And I am learning to love myself the way I have always longed to be loved.
What practices help you stay connected to your creative life?
We have the world to live in on the condition that we will take good care of it.
And to take good care of it, we have to know it.
And to know it and to be willing to take care of it, we have to love it.
—Wendell Berry
Current Offerings
Artist’s Way Summer Cohort - We just started! You don’t need permission to make art. You just need a way in. No matter how messy, you’re welcome here. Bring your tenderness. Bring your fire. I’ll walk you through the rest. Reply to this email if you’d like to join us.
Poetry for Pleasure - June 29 - 9:30-4:30 at the Maloof Foundation for the Arts and Crafts. Create your own leather-bound poetry book and soundtrack it with your favorite poems—a playlist to return to when you need to remember. Learn more or register here. Or reply to this email to request a scholarship.
Information about The Forager Wildlife Creative Retreat, Nov 6–9 in the San Bernardino Mountains is available to paid subscribers, below.
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