If you’ve read my blog before, you know that I am of the firm opinion that creativity should be a part of everyday life. Creating things, to me, is life. I’m not here just to bust my ass as work, collect my paycheck, and spend the night dreading going back to work in the morning.

If I have a true purpose in life, it’s to make stuff. I’ve written about this before, so I’ll get to the point. It’s okay to take a break. While I find it highly desirable and beneficial to create every day, sometimes I just can’t. Part of that is because I am currently taking a break from Alaska (not Alaska so much as the shitty employment scene in Alaska) and am residing in the Detroit metro area. To me this place resembles nothing so much as a giant freeway interchange. A small hill is cause for great excitement because it’s something that the state of Michigan hasn’t razed and paved…yet.

Because a lot of my identity is wrapped up in being a nature photographer, I don’t find much inspiring about my currently location. I have used my camera only a handful of times since November, when I arrived in this state. I do not feel the creative energy as I did in Alaska. Being a nature photographer in an urban area isn’t realistic for me. Since arriving in Michigan, the wildlife I have spotted have been squirrels, birds, a double handful of whitetail deer, and a snake (the snake alone is enough to make me want to return to Alaska – I don’t like snakes).

There are a few (small) wilderness areas, surrounded by development and frequently filled with trash (I don’t like humans, either. I don’t go into their church and throw trash around, so how dare they go into my church, nature, and spread theirs?). Nothing ruins my day or my photo more than an old Coke can partially submerged in the Lower Rouge River. If pursuing photography here leads to nothing but frustration and anger, it’s time to take a break.

I wrestled with this fact for a while because, as I said already, so much of my identity is wrapped up in being a photographer. That’s the problem with labels, especially those we apply to ourselves – after a while we start to believe them. So, if I’m a photographer, but I’m taking a break from photography, what does that make me?

That’s a trick question, because I’m still a photographer, just a very uninspired and unproductive one. The good news is that I’ve started to understand that creativity is like the seasons. Sometimes I’m intensely creative, such as for the last few years. That was the summer of my creative pursuits. I managed to produce a lot during that time, and a lot of what I produced was good work.

I reached a point that felt like running head-on into a wall. After berating myself for this for the past few months, I realized that was actually counterproductive (hey, sometimes as creatives it takes us a while). What I actually need to do is rest and recharge. Part of that is accepting that it would be impossible for me to continue to create at the breakneck pace that I sustained for years. When this happened, I wanted to continue to create but I had no ideas. I would grasp the faintest glimmer of an idea and work on it, sometimes for days and have nothing to show for it at the end. I’m used to that – it happens. But it generally doesn’t happen for weeks or months in a row.

I suppose if I were into it, I could take the easy way out and whine about being “blocked” which is something that has always struck me as horseshit because there’s no mystical whatever stopping me from working and creating – it’s just a matter of being too productive for too long and being a bit burned out because of it. (See Why I Call Bullshit On Writers’ Block)

My current state of non-creativity has much in common with winter – the dormant season. Also known as a good time to read, learn something new, and move on. New ideas will arrive just as the leaves appear on the trees in spring. For now, I have a ton of bookmarked articles to read online and a pile of books that are asking for my attention. And for now the camera batteries are charged and the lenses are clean and ready for their next outing. It’s enough for now.