When Creativity Feels Heavy

Sometimes, creativity doesn’t feel light and playful, it feels heavy. I sit with an idea, or my camera, and instead of feeling free, my mind starts to spiral. Is this good enough? Does it matter? Will anyone connect with it? The questions stack up until the excitement that sparked me in the first place gets buried under layers of doubt. Anxiety has a way of stealing the joy out of the process. I catch myself overanalyzing every choice — the light, the mood, even the imagined reaction to a photo that doesn’t exist yet. And the more I think, the less I create.

But underneath all of that noise, my desire is simple: I want to make something that feels alive. Something that holds emotion, not polished or perfect, just true. I want to create with the same kind of freedom kids have when they draw, not worrying about whether the picture makes sense, just thrilled to be making something at all.

I’m learning that creativity isn’t about control. It’s about presence. When I let myself play, when I stop aiming for “worthy” and instead chase what feels fun, that’s when the work breathes. That’s when it feels real.

Photography, for me, is still the best way I know to hold feelings — the fleeting ones, the messy ones, the beautiful ones. And maybe that’s the point: not to create something flawless, but to create something honest. If that kind of honesty speaks to you, that’s exactly the kind of work I love to create and share.