Creativity as instinct
Creativity has never felt like something that neatly begins and ends with work. It’s always been much quieter than that; more instinct than profession. A way of seeing things, collecting ideas, noticing details and constantly turning things over in your mind, often without realising it.
The difficult part is that creativity doesn’t always arrive on demand. In the middle of deadlines, emails and the day-to-day rhythm of running a business, it’s easy to lose touch with the part that first made you want to create in the first place. Quiet moments can sometimes let doubt creep in too. Questions about whether the ideas are still there, whether the spark has softened under the weight of routine.
And then, every so often, something cuts through it.
A thought. A connection. An idea that arrives fully formed and immediately feels worthy of exploration. Those moments are difficult to describe to anyone outside of a creative field, but they’re the reason many of us keep going back to the process. The rush of recognising something original, however small, and wanting to follow it further.
I often think back to applying for university and being set a personal project based around the number 100. After weeks of trying to approach it in a conventional way, the idea finally arrived unexpectedly: the Roman numeral for 100 is ‘C’.
That single letter became the entire concept.
For my interview, I drew a copyright symbol onto my shoulder (not quite brave enough for the permanence of a real tattoo!) The symbol represented individuality and ownership. The idea that creativity is deeply personal; that no two people would respond in exactly the same way. Even when given the same starting point, the outcome would always be shaped by perspective, instinct and experience.
Looking back, it probably said more about the way I think than I realised at the time.
It’s easy to lose sight of those moments once creativity becomes part of everyday working life. Projects become practical, timelines tighten and ideas need to function commercially. But those flashes of excitement and the moments where something suddenly clicks into place, still matter enormously.
Perhaps even more than ever.
Because those are the moments that remind you creativity isn’t just what you do. It’s part of who you are.
