Summer mode: creating with the season

Joemma Beach State Park at sunset.

It's the end of June. And that old, unsettled feeling is creeping into my bones. Deep inside of me, a switch has flipped. It's official. I have now been set to summer mode. Maybe it's a primordial thing that around summer solstice time, I just want to be outside. I don't want to engage in the steady routines that typically make my world go round. The daily schedule of household management, meal prep, errands, content creation, concept planning, painting practice, posting, and output feel like a lead weight around my ankle. And I love all of these things, actually. Just not right now. Not on the outskirts of July and August in Minnesota.

Can you relate to this niggling feeling? You know, as you diligently sit down to whichever creative endeavor you've eked out time for? Or as you dutifully approach your makeshift studio each morning because you're self-employed? Do you feel the radiant sun grazing your skin through the window? Have you opened that window to be met with the wafting scent of wild roses and caught a glimpse of fluffy clouds and all manner of winged things floating through the air? Does a sudden phantom taste of soft serve ice cream tickle your tongue? And what's that you hear? The sound of a boat motor cutting through a placid lake? A mysterious and insatiable longing performs a high-dive backflip in your stomach. To quote The Goonies, "Down here, it's our time. It's our time down here!" So what shall we do with this time? Fetter it away slogging through doldrum routine? I think not!

But, as an artist, I feel apprehensive about completely stepping away from my work during the summer months in exchange for a mocha frappe and lakeside suntan. I don't want to get out of my groove or become disconnected from the creative communities that I actively engage with and care about. However, when my work starts to feel like a lead weight, that groove quickly becomes a deep rut. To prevent burnout and still create engaging content and artwork that are born from a genuine place rather than obligation, I have learned to change my approach to creativity as the season requires. For the peak summer months of July and August (in the northern hemisphere anyway), I take a creative sabbatical.

If you've never taken a creative sabbatical before, I highly recommend it. And I haven't only done this as a self-employed artist. I did this as a creative weekend warrior when I was part of the corporate 9-5 world as well. If you're an artist, you're an artist regardless of what you do to make a living. And the fact is that whether you engage with creativity as a hobby or as a full-time endeavor, you can still experience burnout, especially when summer is at the door calling your name. A sabbatical is a great way to refresh your creative cup. 

So what exactly do I mean by creative sabbatical? I mean stepping away from whatever it is you normally do creatively to explore what's out there, gather inspiration, and engage with new mediums, styles, and techniques. Just. For. Fun. Play. Play productively with reckless abandon while embracing life and all its seasons. In this case, summer. That's what I mean.

Now, there are a couple of approaches that you can take when it comes to a creative sabbatical. There is the structured way and the spontaneous way. Neither is inherently better than the other. What matters is that you choose the approach that will keep you most engaged with your creative explorations.

Let's begin with the structured way. This could look something like making a creative bucket list for the summer and working your way through the list. Or you could set a goal to complete a project in a medium you've never worked with before. Start by taking a class (online or in person) and then methodically gather your inspiration, materials, and tools as you engage with the summer season.

Alternatively, the spontaneous way would be to follow whatever catches your eye but intentionally put yourself in environments where you would likely encounter sparks of inspiration. For example, you could spend an afternoon trendspotting in local boutiques while on vacation. Then, try your hand at recreating your favorite one through your medium of choice when you get back home. This method doesn't require that you have a plan, but it does require intentional engagement of your artist's eye. Once you find a thread to pull, run with it until you find something else. If you are someone who chases shiny things, this is your moment.

Personally, I like to use a combined approach. I'll have a micro bucket list to prompt exploration, but I am willing to drop that list like a hot potato if I find something more engaging in the process. I am someone who has cultivated discipline purely out of necessity. In my heart of hearts, I am an avid chaser of shiny things.

So at this point you might be thinking, "Gee, Anna, a sabbatical sounds interesting, but how exactly does this allow me to embrace summer?" Well, let's talk about it. Summer is all about travel, spending time outside, going to concerts, camping, swimming, stargazing, and a million other playful and novel experiences. These experiences are prime opportunities to gather inspiration.

As my husband reminded me the other day (while I lay sprawled out on the couch racking my brain for interesting content), art imitates life. He's right. And summer is brimming with life, so go out there, engage, and then imitate. One of the most literal ways would be to create a living work of art by growing your own garden, any size. Or on a smaller scale picking wildflowers (responsibly) and making an arrangement for your kitchen counter.

A step away from the literal could be to take photos of the cool scenes and experiences you have while you are out and about saying yes to summer. Then, recreate them in your experimental medium or style. You could take photos around a motif like summer gatherings, neighbors' gardens, or pool floaties. Try bringing these scenes and your impressions of them to life via chalk pastel, collage, or any new-to-you medium, style, or technique.

You can also engage in a more abstract way by drawing on elements like colors and textures as a springboard for inspiration. For example, one of the ideas I might put on my micro list is to create color palettes from the different outdoor experiences I have in the summer like kayaking on a mining lake, walking through our local arboretum bursting with pink lady's slipper, or late night campfires. I want to play around with jewelry-making, and those naturally occurring palettes could be my color inspiration. This is one of the many ideas I have up my sleeve for this summer’s explorations.

So, if you can relate to the restless, rustling feelings I mentioned in the beginning, this is the antidote I have to offer. Go on creative sabbatical. Leave your routine creative method at the table. Step out into the world and soak up life through your artist's eye. Infuse your findings on canvas, in clay, through pencil tips, and collage clippings. Let the routine go. It’s our time, and we're on summer mode.