Setting Creative Intentions for 2026: Ditch the Resolutions

It’s the last day of the year, and if you’re anything like me, you’re probably sitting somewhere between reflection and planning. The studio might be quieter than usual, the inbox isn’t screaming for attention, and there’s a kind of pause in the air that doesn’t show up any other time. I like this in-between space. It feels like an honest checkpoint…not quite the past, not quite the future, just a place to sit and take stock. And in that space, instead of making big, rigid resolutions for the new year, I’ve started focusing on something different: intention.

Creative intentions aren’t about reinventing yourself overnight. They’re about paying attention to where you’ve been and deciding what you want more of. It’s not a checklist or a contract. It’s a direction. I started doing this a few years ago when the traditional new year pressure started feeling more like a burden than a boost. The lists I made never matched the year that followed. Not because I was unmotivated, but because life is complex and art isn’t a linear output machine. It didn’t make sense to hold myself to something I wrote when I had no idea what was coming next.

So if today you’re feeling that pressure to come up with something impressive or ambitious for 2026…pause. Instead, give yourself space to think about what actually matters to you in your art practice right now. What have you been drawn to lately, even when no one was watching? What felt like a win this year, even if it wasn’t something you shared online or sold in your shop? Look at your sketchbooks, your half-finished pieces, the notes you scribbled during those random flashes of clarity. That’s where your intention can begin.

When I look back on my own year, I notice patterns that weren’t obvious in the moment. There were weeks where I kept reaching for the same color palette over and over. There were weekends where I felt more drawn to writing about my process than actually painting. None of that was planned, but it told me something about where my energy wanted to go. That’s the kind of reflection that’s useful. Not a scorecard…just a way of checking in.

Once you’ve gathered some of those little clues from the past year, try writing one sentence that sums up where you want your creative energy to point next. Keep it loose. Don’t worry about sounding perfect. Something like, “I want to spend more time working with materials that I’ve been avoiding,” or “I want to show more behind-the-scenes parts of my work even if they feel messy.” If your sentence leaves room to grow, you’re on the right track.

I usually write mine on a sticky note and keep it somewhere near my workspace. That way, I don’t forget that this is about direction not perfection. This past year, my intention had to do with reconnecting to process without making it performative. That one sentence helped guide so many choices, from what I said no to, to how I shared on social, to how I paced my exhibitions and collaborations. It didn’t make the year easy, but it made it more aligned. And that’s the goal here…not pressure, but clarity.

If you’re setting your own intention right now, a helpful way to make it stick is to give it some real space in your week. Pick a consistent block of time that’s just for you and the work that supports your intention. Maybe that’s early mornings before emails begin, or evenings when things have calmed down. It doesn’t have to be long. Just consistent. I use a calendar reminder, but a sticky note, a dry erase board, or even a recurring alarm on your phone can work. Don’t overthink the tool. Just choose something that feels easy to see and hard to ignore.

Tracking also helps. Not in a controlling way, but in a way that keeps you accountable to yourself. I jot down short notes at the end of each session. What I worked on, how it felt, what I want to come back to. These notes aren’t meant for anyone else. They’re just there so I can come back in a few weeks or months and see what’s actually happening, not what I thought would happen.

And let’s talk honestly for a second about the business side of your art. Your creative intention doesn’t have to stay in the “personal” category. In fact, some of the strongest shifts I’ve seen in my business have come from intentions that had nothing to do with numbers and everything to do with alignment. Like the year I decided to only take on commissions that felt like true fits…even if that meant fewer bookings. That intention pushed me to revise my inquiry form, update my pricing to reflect my time, and be clearer in my descriptions. It also made space for other opportunities I wouldn’t have been able to accept otherwise.

Maybe your intention is about content. Maybe you’re tired of being frozen by what to post and when. Your intention could be to share weekly notes about your process, no matter what the outcome looks like. That alone can shift how you show up online. You stop performing and start documenting. And your audience (whether it’s ten people or ten thousand) can feel the difference.

Or maybe your focus is networking. Instead of promising yourself you’ll go to every event or reach some magical follower count, your intention can be as simple as connecting with one new artist a month in a genuine way. A DM that isn’t transactional. A studio visit or an email that says, “I really liked how you handled that show.” These quiet connections matter more than numbers.

I also want to make space for those of you juggling multiple roles like teaching, parenting, caregiving, working outside of your art. You don’t need to stretch your creative intention across every single area of your life. If it lives in your sketchbook for now, that’s enough. If it looks like a biweekly check-in instead of a daily one, that’s still real. The point is to create something that fits your reality, not something that pretends the rest of your life doesn’t exist.

One thing I do at the end of each year is a short audit. Not of my income or social reach, though I track those too. I sit down with a blank page and ask myself a few real questions. What did I enjoy? What do I never want to do again? What surprised me? What challenged me in a way that felt worthwhile? The answers usually clarify what my intention for the new year should be. I don’t force it. I let it surface.

So if today you’re sitting with that feeling that you should have a plan for 2026…give yourself permission to let go of that pressure. Start with one intention. Just one. Write it in plain language. Don’t post it unless you want to. Don’t turn it into a project or a product unless it naturally wants to grow. You can keep it small. Quiet. Personal. Or you can share it with a group and let that conversation shape where it goes next. You get to decide.

Tomorrow will come whether you’ve written resolutions or not. But this space right now (this final day of the year) is a good one for checking in with your own creative voice. Not the one that’s filtered through what other people expect. Just yours. Ask it what it needs. What it wants more of. What it’s tired of pretending to care about.

That’s where your 2026 intention lives.

I’ll be setting mine today too…in a quiet corner of my studio, likely with a mug of tea and a couple of notebooks spread out in front of me. If you’re doing the same, I’d love to hear how it’s going. Reach out if you feel like it. And whatever intention you land on…make sure it’s something that feels like yours. Not a rule. Not a performance. Just something honest enough to carry with you into a year that hasn’t been written yet.

Happy almost-new-year. Let’s walk into it with clarity, not pressure.