For years, making art was as natural to me as breathing. I’d reach for my paintbrush or my fingers (because let’s be honest, finger-painting is underrated 😉), and colours would flow without a second thought. I’d create after work, while travelling, in front of the TV — whenever and wherever inspiration whispered.

But lately, that whisper has gone quiet.

I’ve walked past my studio — a space brimming with brushes, canvases, and a rainbow of paint — a hundred times a day, and felt… nothing. The spark that once danced so freely has been hiding in the shadows, and I wasn’t sure how to coax it out again.

When inspiration changes shape

What I’ve come to realise is that my creativity hasn’t disappeared — it’s simply wearing a different outfit. Over the last little while, it’s been showing up in the candles I craft, the labels I design, and the website I build late into the night.

I have been in the zone — just not in the same way I used to. Instead of brushes and paint, I’ve been dreaming about new product lines, designing, researching, and imagining every little detail. It’s consumed my thoughts in that familiar, all-encompassing way.

I just wasn’t giving myself credit for that kind of creativity. I kept comparing it to the way it used to look… and that’s where the ache crept in.

The quiet in-between

It’s strange to admit that I, the one who always told others to “just throw some paint around and see what happens,” forgot how to follow my own advice.

I’ve told so many people, “Don’t overthink it, just play.”

And now here I am, whispering those same words back to myself.

This isn’t a dramatic ending — it’s just a quieter season. A creative winter, maybe. The kind where everything seems still on the surface… but underground, something is slowly growing roots again.

A gentle return

So I’m not forcing it. No grand plans. No perfect paintings waiting to be made.

Instead, I’m starting with:

• one candle lit,

• one favourite colour on the brush,

• one page in my art journal,

• no expectations.

If I make a mess, that’s okay. If nothing happens, that’s okay too. It’s about the act of showing up — softly, kindly, just for me.

If you’ve felt this too…

If your spark has gone quiet lately, I want you to know: you’re not broken. The muse doesn’t live in some far-off place; sometimes she just needs a gentler knock on the door.

Maybe we can both find our way back — not through pressure or perfection, but through little moments of colour, courage, and play.

Does this feel familiar?

Leave a message below and let me know if you have felt a bit stuck lately too!

xo Mimi