The Written Invitation


September 29, 2024


Procrastination is a challenge most artists know all too well. Whether you're a painter, a writer, a musician, or any other kind of creative, the blank canvas, the empty page, or the silent instrument can seem like insurmountable obstacles. But what if I told you that a simple tool—something as straightforward as a written invitation—could help you overcome these barriers and spark your creative journey? It might sound simple, but in that simplicity lies a powerful way to push past procrastination and tap into your artistic potential.

The Hidden Barrier

At its root, procrastination often stems from fear. Fear of failure, fear of judgment, or even fear of success can keep us stuck in a cycle of inaction. The longer we put off starting, the more daunting the task seems. We start making excuses—“I’ll begin tomorrow,” or “I need more inspiration first,”—and each excuse makes the mountain of work ahead of us feel a little higher, the gap between where we are and where we want to be a little wider.

But procrastination isn't just about laziness or a lack of discipline; it’s often tied to deeper emotional blocks like perfectionism or self-doubt. The more we think about what we should be creating, the more we fear that we won’t be able to meet those expectations. And so, the act of creating, which should feel liberating, becomes a source of stress. We freeze, waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect idea, the perfect conditions, but those conditions rarely come on their own. The key to moving forward lies in learning to embrace the messiness of the process.

A Path to Action

So, how do we break free from this cycle? One unexpected solution is a simple act of writing—a written invitation to create. Imagine writing yourself a note that says something like, “Dear [Your Name], I invite you to explore your creativity today. Let go of perfection. There’s no pressure here, just curiosity and expression. Take some time, make something, and trust that this is only the beginning.” This is more than a note; it's a commitment to yourself, a promise that you are allowed to show up without needing to have everything figured out.

When you write this invitation, you are not just reminding yourself of your creative goals. You’re also giving yourself permission. In the often high-pressure world of creativity, the simple act of granting yourself the space to create—without judgment or expectation—can be incredibly freeing. You no longer have to worry about making something “good”; you just need to make something. This shift can be enough to get you started, especially when the thought of starting feels like the hardest part.

But there’s more to the written invitation than just permission. Writing down your creative intention also brings focus. The act of specifying what you want to do—whether it’s writing, painting, or playing music—gives you a clear direction. Rather than feeling overwhelmed by a vague urge to “create,” you can channel your energy toward a specific project or action, making it easier to dive in. And the beauty of this approach is that it’s flexible. It’s not about rigid plans or perfection; it’s about creating an invitation for yourself to step into the creative process, however it unfolds.

Process, Not Outcome

Once you’ve written your invitation, the next step is to simply take action. This is where the real magic happens. Set aside distractions, create an environment that feels comfortable, and dive into the work. The beauty of the invitation is that it relieves you of the pressure to succeed. There is no end goal, no outcome to be judged. The invitation is not a command—it’s an encouragement. It’s a gentle nudge that allows you to focus on the experience of creating, rather than the expectation of what that creation should be.

And here’s the thing: It’s okay if it doesn’t go as planned. In fact, that’s part of the process. Creativity is not about perfection; it’s about exploration and expression. By giving yourself permission to create without the pressure of achieving a specific result, you open the door to genuine discovery. Sometimes, the act of making something—anything—is enough to spark new ideas and breakthroughs.

Reflecting and Evolving

After you’ve spent time working on your art, it’s important to take a moment to reflect. How did it feel? Did your written invitation help you overcome the procrastination that usually holds you back? What worked, and what didn’t? This is where the written invitation can evolve. Maybe you’ll find that the wording needs adjustment next time or that the time frame you set didn’t quite work. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach, but the key is to keep refining the process, making it something that supports your creative journey over time.

Why It Works

In a world filled with distractions and self-doubt, a written invitation can be a surprisingly powerful tool for overcoming procrastination. It takes the abstract idea of wanting to create and turns it into a concrete commitment. By writing down your intention, you give yourself permission, structure, and focus—all without the weight of perfectionism. The simple act of inviting yourself to create transforms the task from something daunting into something approachable.

Next time you find yourself hesitating, unsure of where to start or how to push past procrastination, try writing yourself an invitation. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to be real. Give yourself permission to show up, take action, and embrace the process, no matter where it leads.

After all, creativity is not about the finished product—it’s about the journey of exploration, expression, and growth. So go ahead: write that invitation, take the first step, and see where your creativity takes you. The world is waiting to see what you’ll create.

The Christopher Mudgett archive collection is the only one in the world to present the artist’s up-to-date painted, sculpted, engraved and illustrated œuvre and a precise record—through sketches, studies, drafts, notebooks, photos, books, films and documents—of the creative process.
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