Crisis

The entire week felt off—it seems I’m going through another crisis.

First symptoms: loss of momentum, every task feels heavy, and minor difficulties pop up, loss of interest in the current theme, searching for something new in the old, a desire to do anything just to stay busy, gloomy mood, time stretches endlessly; a task that used to take two hours drags on all day, fatigue. If, at some point, you recognize that this is a crisis, the way out usually begins not long after.

When I first identify a crisis, I drop serious tasks and focus on small things instead. For instance, I pay attention to neglected materials in the studio, figure out what’s cluttering my space, and tackle minor tasks that have been hanging over me, creating a sense of obligation.

This morning, I cleaned the studio floor, photographed current works, and sorted pastel sticks into boxes. Clearing up all ongoing tasks and decluttering the space is the first step toward finding a way out of the crisis.

Sometimes, you don’t realize just how much your environment can influence your work.

A period of crisis can spark new processes if approached correctly.

I don’t think it’s impossible to create something interesting during a crisis, nor that you shouldn’t work at all during such times. On the contrary, I believe you need to work a lot. It’s better to feel frustrated that the work isn’t turning out as envisioned, better to feel that something is missing and to search for it, than to do nothing.

But your focus should shift away from familiar themes to a broader spectrum—and not just in art, but in life as well. A crisis is rarely purely creative; it can stem from a mismatch, an overlooked discomfort, tension, or not using your full potential in what you’re doing.

Here’s a short video for you about the stages of working on a painting. A crisis is the perfect time to film and share.

Insights from within and outside often appear very differently.

Main materials used: pastel and charcoal.