Studio secrets: How I design when I don’t feel creative

There’s this myth that creativity strikes like lightning.

In my experience, it’s more like a tired housecat who shows up when it feels like it, ignores you when you need it most, and occasionally knocks something over just to remind you who’s boss.

So yep, there are plenty of days in my studio when I don’t feel creative at all. The bench is a mess, my tea’s gone cold (again), and every sketch looks like it was drawn by someone whose imagination took the day off.

But something I learned is that creativity isn’t about constant inspiration. It’s about showing up anyway.

Here’s what I do when the muse is MIA, the ideas aren’t cooperating, and I still need to make something beautiful.

Start with the familiar

When inspiration’s flatlined, I don’t try to force something new, I start with what I know.

A shape I love. A gemstone I haven’t worked with in a while. Even a half-finished idea that’s been sitting on the bench silently judging me for weeks. (Why are there always so many of these?!)

Sometimes the act of making reignites the spark. The repetition of motion: filing, polishing, wrapping wire. It quiets my brain down until an idea sneaks in through the back door.

Let the materials speak

Some of my favorite designs started by accident. A stone that refused to sit neatly in its setting, a piece of silver that twisted the “wrong” way and suddenly looked better for it.

On days when I’m creatively blocked, I stop telling the materials what to do and start asking what they want to become.

Turns out, silver has opinions.

Romanticize the rut

If I can’t make something new, I make the process feel special.

I light a candle, put on a fantasy soundtrack, and pretend I’m some medieval artisan in a workshop full of secrets. It’s silly, but it works.

→ Listen the cozy winter playlist here!

Because sometimes creativity just needs a change of lighting and a little imagination to find its way back.

Give yourself permission to make something ugly

This might be the biggest secret of all.

The pieces that eventually become bestsellers? They usually start as disasters. I’ve melted bezels, cracked stones, and made rings that could double as blunt weapons. But every “failure” teaches me something new.

So now I let myself make terrible art when I need to. Because perfection doesn’t create magic, persistence does.

Magic finds you in motion

Creativity rarely arrives when I’m waiting for it. It shows up when I’m moving my hands, even just cleaning the dishes or setting a single stone.

So if you’re in a rut too, pour another cup of tea, light something that smells like home, and make one small thing. It doesn’t have to be good. It just has to exist.

That’s how the magic finds you.

When the muse comes back around

If you’ve ever sat in front of your own creative project and thought ‘I’ve lost it’, you haven’t.

It’s just taking a nap.

I write about that kind of stuff - the messy, magical middle of making things - in my email letters. If you ever need a gentle reminder that creative ruts are part of the story, not the end of it:

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