What I Do When Creativity Feels Out of Reach!

Every few months, I notice a pattern: I sit at my desk, open my sketchbook, and… nothing. No idea, no spark, not even the faintest line feels right. It’s as if the well has suddenly run dry.

I used to panic when this happened. I thought it meant I was losing my creativity, that I had nothing left to say, or worse — that I wasn’t “a real artist” after all. But over time, I’ve come to see these blocks differently. Now, I treat them as part of the rhythm of creativity. Like seasons, inspiration also has winters. And winters aren’t the end — they’re a quiet pause before growth.

Here’s what I do when the block arrives:

1. I stop forcing it.

If I try to push through, the pressure only makes me freeze more. So I give myself permission to step away. Sometimes that means going for a walk, listening to music (preferably classical — it clears my head and resets everything), wandering through the supermarket just because I genuinely love grocery shopping and looking at the products and packaging. Other times I’ll curl up with a book or play the piano. Whatever it is, the goal is the same: to get out of my own head and remember there’s more to life than a blank page.

2. I feed my eyes and mind.

When I can’t create, I shift into receiving mode. I read, scroll through Pinterest, and flip through magazines — especially art ones like Flow, Uppercase, or Wrap — they always spark something in me. I also check in on my favourite illustrators on Instagram. Sometimes it’s inspiring to see their process and workflow — but I have to be mindful not to slip into the comparison trap.

3. I make tiny marks.

Instead of chasing a masterpiece, I give myself permission to doodle nonsense in my sketchbook. Little shapes, scribbles, whatever comes to mind — without worrying about the outcome. Sometimes I switch things up with different mediums. Recently I played around with crayons and acrylics, and it was surprisingly refreshing. It’s like giving my creative muscles a workout. I think sometimes my mind just needs that kind of exercise — trying new tools and styles warms me up and loosens the stiffness that blocks me.

4. I remind myself: it always passes.

Sometimes I get stuck in this stage for far too long, and that can be dangerous. In the past, I’ve gone months — even five or six — without drawing, and the longer I stayed away, the heavier it felt to return. That’s why I try not to linger in the block for too long. I remind myself that it always passes, and that the hardest part is simply to start. Even the smallest beginning — a line, a doodle, a messy attempt — is enough to break the cycle. Once I start, the momentum slowly builds again.

5. I talk to fellow artists.

One of the most comforting things I’ve learned is that almost every illustrator or creative person goes through this stage. It’s not just me, and it’s not just you — it’s a very natural part of the process. We’re all human, and most of us are also our own harshest critics. For me, creative block often feels like my self-doubt has turned up way too loud. But whenever I talk to other artists, share what I’m going through, or ask for tips, it helps quiet that voice. Just knowing we’re all navigating the same ups and downs makes the block feel a little less heavy — and a lot less lonely.

6. I read self-help books.

I’ve always been drawn to self-help books — anything that helps me grow mentally and emotionally. Whenever I feel stuck, I’ll reach for one and open it to a random page. Strangely, it almost always gives me exactly what I need to hear in that moment, and I instantly feel lighter.

One book I especially recommend is Art & Fear. It’s about what it truly takes — and what it really feels like — to make art, especially when fear and self-doubt creep in. This book has helped me reframe those moments of uncertainty more than once. (I think I might write a blog post about it!)

And then — without warning — an idea lands. A line finally feels right. The page begins to fill. The block lifts. So if you’re in that place right now, staring at a blank page, know this: it’s temporary. Creativity always finds its way back.

I recently came across a video that ended with a reminder I didn’t know I needed:

“Stop trying to be special. You’re not behind — you’re just at the point where most people quit. And the only difference between you and the people you admire is that they didn’t stop. They didn’t need to be special; they just kept going.”

That message really stuck with me — especially during creative blocks. I tend to hit that wall when it feels like nothing is moving forward, when I start comparing myself to other creatives and begin to believe my ideas aren’t original or good enough. In those moments, I come back to this truth: it’s not about being special. It’s about not giving up.

If you’re going through a creative block, I hope this reminds you to keep going too.

Saba x