Recently, I added a new role to my life as an artist: graveyard shift worker. The idea? Work by night, create art by day. I had these dreamy, naïve visions of sneaking in downtime at work, channeling bursts of creativity while the world slept, and living in the best of both worlds.
There was just one thing I overestimated: the power of my circadian rhythm. I geared up for battle, convinced I could reset my sleep cycle. A month in, and the fight is still ongoing. My days drift in a haze between trying to sleep and wishing to be awake, and my nights? A fight to stay awake while craving sleep. I’ve become... a zombie (although I still prefer my meals cooked). And here’s a fun fact: zombies aren’t exactly great artists. Those brain cells that usually spark with creativity? They’re comatose, stuck in an endless loop of sleep deprivation.
So, what does one do in this zombified state? Doomscroll. It’s surprisingly easy—zero brainpower required. Instead of creating, I find myself scrolling through social media, tapping 'like' on fellow artists' posts, all while that sneaky little FOMO demon whispers in my ear. Am I still an artist if I haven’t created anything in over a month? If I’m not doing shows anymore? Have I suffocated my art career for a paycheck? Will my art ever resurface? Have I trapped myself in this sleep-deprived limbo forever? WHAT AM I EVEN DOING?!
(Side note: negative self-talk? Fully operational, even when the rest of my brain isn’t. Yay.)
But, with no one else awake, there’s a certain spaciousness. I’ve got all the time in the world to dig into my psyche, analyze the inner voices, motivations, aspirations, and fears. What’s my conclusion so far? Compassion. (Yeah, I know. Ew.) But seriously—compassion. I’m learning to be okay with taking this forced downtime to rest during the day. I’m learning to embrace small, deliberate actions toward being an artist. I’m learning to nibble.
Tonight, it’s a blog post about my journey. Tomorrow, it might be a 4-inch digital sketch of a new idea. The next day? Maybe just adding a button to my website. What used to be tiny steps in a regular day of creating now represents all the energy I have in a 24-hour stretch. And you know what? That’s okay. I’ve shifted from trying to bulldoze mountains to moving them stone by stone. Do I still get FOMO watching my artist friends bulldoze their mountains? Absolutely. But my path is different. Now, I’m seeing every stone that makes up my mountain.
In this process, I’m becoming more mindful of my actions, my energy, my thoughts, and my role as an artist. It feels like my inner artist is incubating, waiting for the right moment to emerge. When it does, a whole new palette of experiences will be there to create from.
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