Okay, listen—creative flow exercises are literally the only reason I’m still making art in 2026 instead of just doom-scrolling interior design TikToks at 2 a.m. in my sweatpants in this freezing Faridabad January night (wait no, I’m in the US right now in my head, it’s like 40°F in my drafty Brooklyn walk-up and the radiator is making dying whale noises).
I’ve tried everything. Therapy. Pomodoro. “Just show up.” Bullet journaling with washi tape I immediately regret buying. Nothing sticks until I force myself into these weird, stupidly specific creative flow exercises that other artists swear by—and yeah, I swear by them too even when they make me look like a complete clown.
Why Creative Flow Exercises Actually Matter (My Pathetic Origin Story)
Three years ago I hit the worst creative block of my life. I was staring at a blank 30×40 canvas for six weeks straight while my cat judged me from the windowsill. I’d open Instagram, see everyone else posting finished pieces, and immediately want to set my brushes on fire. Then I started experimenting with dumb little creative flow activities people posted in artist Discords and honestly? They saved me. Not in a corny “believe in yourself” way. More like “embarrass yourself enough that the block gets uncomfortable and leaves.”
1. Blind Contour Drawing (But Make It Rage)
Grab something in your room—a weird lamp, your sneaker, the half-dead monstera that’s somehow still alive—and draw it without ever looking at the paper. I do this for 5–10 minutes while listening to hyperpop at full volume. The point isn’t beauty, it’s killing perfectionism. Highly recommend.
2. 6-Word Stories on Steroids
Write six-word stories about your current emotion, then immediately turn one into a tiny 5-minute painting. Mine yesterday: “Anxious stomach, paint still wet, help.” Became a small gouache of a stomach made of dripping ultramarine. Weirdly cathartic.
3. Freestyle Dance + Mark-Making
Put on a song you love (right now it’s anything by Charli XCX or that one 100 gecs remix I’m obsessed with), dance like an absolute idiot for 3 minutes in your studio/apartment/living room, then immediately grab a big brush and make huge ugly marks that match the energy. No planning. Just chaos transfer. My neighbors probably hate me. Worth it.
Do it again tomorrow. The neighbors will survive (or move out, which is also a win).
4. One Continuous Line for 15 Minutes
Never lift the pen/pencil/brush. Just keep going. I usually end up with insane birds-nest scribbles that accidentally become interesting compositions. Pro tip: do it on cheap newsprint so you don’t cry about “wasting” paper.
5. Steal From Your Toddler Self
Literally draw with your non-dominant hand like you’re five again. Crayons. Markers. Whatever. I did this last month and accidentally made my favorite piece of 2025 so far—a wonky screaming banana in neon pink.
For more on non-dominant hand drawing, check out Betty Edwards’ book—it’s old but gold.
6. Sound-to-Shape Synesthesia Game
Play random ambient soundscapes (I use Endel or just rain + lo-fi on YouTube), close your eyes, and draw the shapes the sound makes in your brain. Last night it sounded like purple jellyfish fighting in a thunderstorm. Now I have purple jellyfish fighting in a thunderstorm on my wall. Life is weird.
7. 1-Minute Gesture Poses (But You’re the Model)
Set a timer for 60 seconds, strike the most dramatic/awkward pose you can think of, then draw yourself from memory. I look like a deranged flamingo 90% of the time. It’s humbling and hilarious.
8. Material Mashup Roulette
Grab 3–5 supplies you NEVER use together (gouache + oil pastel + sharpie + watercolor pencils + collage scraps), close your eyes, pick one mark, then react to it for 10 minutes. The rule is you can’t plan. You just respond. This is how I ended up with my current series of glittery dystopian swamp monsters.
9. “Ugly Page” Challenge
Declare one entire sketchbook page “allowed to be hideous.” No erasing. No judgment. Just fill it with garbage. Once it’s sufficiently disgusting, weirdly the next page becomes easier. Psychology hack I don’t understand but I’ll take it.
10. Artist Date With Zero Expectations (Julia Cameron Style)
Best 20 minutes of art I made all month.
If you’ve never read The Artist’s Way, start here. It changed my life even though I rolled my eyes at first.
Wrapping This Chaotic Ramble Up
Look, I’m not saying these creative flow exercises are magic. Half the time I still feel like an imposter who can’t draw a straight line. But they get me moving. They remind me that the block isn’t me—it’s just a temporary visitor who hates being embarrassed.
