Rituals That Keep You Making

There’s something about starting the day in a familiar way that makes it easier to get into your work. I didn’t think much about it for a long time, but the more I paid attention, the more I noticed that the days I felt most connected to what I was making usually had some kind of small, repeated starting point. It might be coffee in the same mug, or sitting down and making a few marks before I open anything else. It’s not a big gesture, but it shifts how I move into the rest of the day and gives me a place to begin when everything else feels a little scattered.

I used to push against the idea of routine because I thought it would get in the way of creativity. I wanted things to feel open and responsive, like I could follow whatever showed up. What actually happened was that without any kind of structure, I spent a lot of time circling the work without getting into it. Everything stayed in that space where I was about to start but never quite did. Once I stopped treating routine as a limitation and started treating it as a way in, things got easier. I didn’t need a full plan. I just needed a consistent starting point.

For me, that ended up being ten minutes of drawing before I check email. It’s not planned, and it’s not something I share. I just sit down and make something. Some days it’s repetitive or feels like nothing is happening, and other days something small catches my attention and I follow it later. What matters more than the outcome is that I showed up. I can tell when I skip it because the rest of the day feels less connected to the work and it’s easier to get pulled into everything else.

Over time, that small start became something I rely on because it removes a lot of the friction. I’m not deciding whether I feel like working or trying to come up with an idea first. I’m just beginning, and that’s usually enough to get me into it. Once I’m there, it’s easier to stay longer or come back later without feeling like I’m starting from scratch.

I see this play out with students too. The ones who build some kind of small, repeatable way of starting tend to keep going, even when they’re unsure about what they’re making. The ones who wait for the right idea or the right mood often stall out because there’s nothing pulling them in. It’s not about discipline in a strict sense, it’s more about having something that makes it easier to return to the work without overthinking it.

That return is what matters. The ritual itself can be anything, but it needs to be something you can actually do on a normal day. Not an ideal day, not a day where everything lines up, just a regular one where you’re a little tired or distracted or short on time. If it only works when conditions are perfect, it won’t hold up. When it’s small enough to fit into the day as it already is, it becomes something you can rely on instead of something you have to negotiate with.

I’ve also noticed that these small practices start to feed into larger projects without a lot of planning. When I was working on a longer series, I used that same short drawing time to explore pieces of it. Sometimes I focused on a texture or a shape, sometimes I wrote out questions about what wasn’t working yet. It didn’t feel like I was making progress in a big way, but those small pieces started to connect. When I had more time, I wasn’t starting from nothing. I already had something to build from.

That’s been especially helpful in the stretches where I’m not sure where things are going. Those are the moments where I used to step away completely, and then coming back felt harder than it needed to be. Having something small in place means I keep a thread going, even if it’s a thin one. It keeps the work within reach instead of letting it drift too far away.

I don’t think this needs to be complicated or turned into a full system. It’s more about noticing what helps you return and letting that be enough. The ritual doesn’t have to produce anything meaningful on its own. It just needs to keep the door open so that when something does come through, you’re already there.

If your work has been feeling a little distant or harder to get into, it might be worth paying attention to how you start. Not how long you work or how much you produce, just that first point of contact. A few minutes that belong to your practice before everything else starts pulling at your attention.