Not every creative block is philosophical

Turns out mine was literal! I’ve been a bit quiet lately, at least publicly. Behind the scenes though, there’s actually been quite a lot going on.

In early 2025 I set myself a five year plan for the art practice. Very organised of me, I know. I’m currently into year two, and one of the goals I set for 2026 was to exhibit outside the island of Ireland in the first half of the year, alongside taking part in Art Source in November.

That plan had to pivot slightly when I didn’t get my act together in time to apply for suitable shows abroad. Instead, when the opportunity came up to take a stand at Art Evolve in the RDS in March, I decided flexibility was probably the better option than rigid devotion to the goal. Two shows for 2026 instead then.

Honestly, what a decision that turned out to be!

The show was phenomenal. I genuinely cannot put into words how good the whole experience was. It’s smaller than Art Source, but that never felt like a negative. It felt curated, the atmosphere all weekend was incredible, and the interactions I had with people completely floored me.

I came away from it feeling something I think will forever amaze me: Validated. Not in an ego way, but in a deeper sense of feeling that maybe I do belong in this world after all.

Afterwards, I didn’t put pressure on myself creatively. The last few months have been taxing in various ways, physically, mentally, life generally doing what life does. I thought I’d regroup a little and get back into making when I was ready.

What I didn’t expect was to become completely hamstrung by my own studio.

The studio had gradually become a cluttered disaster. Not in the ‘insta-worthy’ “chaotic artist” sense either. Just overwhelming. Every surface seemed was piled with ‘stuff’. Things that were half-finished, moved temporarily, or waiting to be dealt with properly later. Except it felt like later never came.

The strange thing was that creatively, my head hadn’t gone quiet at all. Quite the opposite. I had ideas constantly swirling around my mind, new work I wanted to begin, commissions to plan, thoughts developing from conversations I’d had during Art Evolve. The admin side of the practice continued ticking along too. Emails, planning, talking to people, organising things behind the scenes. From the outside, it probably looked like everything was progressing normally.

Meanwhile I was avoiding the studio almost entirely. I’d walk in, look around, feel instantly overwhelmed, and walk back out again thinking ‘nope, not today’.

What felt like months and months of paralysis was actually only a few weeks spanning the end of March into April, but mentally it felt enormous. I kept telling myself I’d sort it out tomorrow, or at the weekend, or when I had a proper run at it. Instead the mess became bigger in my head every day I ignored it.

The hardest part was the contradiction of it all. I knew things were growing. I knew opportunities were building. I knew I should probably be making work. But I had ideas without motivation, ambition without momentum. The physical clutter had somehow become mental clutter too.

Eventually I realised the problem wasn’t just that the studio needed tidying. I actually needed to let things go. Hilariously, that turned out to be surprisingly easier than expected and not as emotional as I expected! I started culling fabric I’d been hoarding for years. Fabric I’d convinced myself I might use someday. Fabric taking up storage space, physical and mental, while I simultaneously felt frustrated that I had nowhere to put the things I actually needed access to; and we are NOT short on space here!

So I started clearing the fabric, ruthless sounds like the wrong word, but more I was taking away the emotion and seeing it as what it is: fabric, materials, patterns… all unused. Like if I need a cushion insert again, I’ll either get one from another cushion, charity shop, or Ikea! So I started thinking of the people I could pass all of this onto, people I knew would give it a loving home, which sounds deeply dramatic for fabric, but honestly feels accurate. You could say it is wasteful of me to give away these things, they cost me money (let’s not do the math), but really, it’s passing it to someone who will use it, and that is far more valuable than selling it on to me.

As I cleared things out, I realised how much this accumulation had been holding me back. Not just practically, but creatively too. I’d surrounded myself with endless future possibilities instead of making the things I genuinely wanted to make now. The quilts I’ve been “saving” fabric for. The garments I’ve been planning forever. The ideas sitting in limbo because I was preserving materials instead of using them.

At some point I have to trust myself enough to believe that if I need fabric again in future, I can simply buy more fabric. Revolutionary stuff!

The clear out has spread beyond the studio now. Furniture. Vintage and antique sewing machines. Yarn I was realistically never going to knit with, considering I can barely knit in the first place. More fabric. Probably more still to come. Anyone want an ultra short throw projector?

The studio is far from finished. It’s a working space and always will be, which I’m good with. There’s still plenty in there, and always will go through cycles of cluttered. But it feels usable again now. Lighter somehow. My head does too.

Perhaps that’s part of making as well. Not just creating new work, but learning when to release the things that no longer serve the work, or yourself.

A space in use!

Last month, we had our 20 year wedding anniversary, so we had a planned trip to Paris, and it came at exactly the right time. I filled an art journal while I was there, wandered endlessly, looked properly at things again, and came home with a head full of thoughts about art, process, creativity, and everything in between. I’ll write more about all of that soon!

Until next time, you’ll find me in the studio!
Ax