Raise Your Hand if You’ve Ever Been Personally Victimized by The Artist’s Way
By Kelsey Allagood | May 8, 2023 |
Every week, a writer friend and I meet over Discord to discuss our writing progress and to set new goals for the week ahead.
And for about 12 weeks at the end of last year and the beginning of this one, our check-ins began with one question:
“So, how has Julia Cameron personally victimized you this week?”
Julia Cameron isn’t anyone either of us know personally, nor is she trying to specifically victimize us (probably). She is the author of The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity, a self-guided course that’s been a classic among creatives since it first came out in 1992. A lot of you have probably done the course or parts of it, or at least heard of the concept of “morning pages”—the daily practice of writing three pages of longhand, stream-of-consciousness thoughts—that originated with it.
For those who don’t know, The Artist’s Way aims to help people overcome creative blockages, whether it’s in specific artistic projects, career paths, or life. And despite, as far as I know, not having a background in psychology, Julia (we started calling her Julia in our check-ins as well, usually to say, “Damn it, Julia!”) really nails some of the root psychological causes of creative blockages.
Getting out of my own way
Getting to this point required overcoming a few of my own internal hurdles.
“I don’t feel blocked,” I thought, ignoring the fact that I do not have a published book under my name in no small part because even when I finish a book, it is not “good enough,” I know I can “do better,” so what if I just “rewrite it a little,” (repeat ad nauseum).
But after two separate friends—within a few weeks of each other!—highly recommended the book to me, I bought a used copy, recruited another writer friend to be my accountability buddy, and jumped in.
I didn’t really know what to expect when I started, figuring it was best to go in with as much of an open mind is possible.
I’m wary of popular self-help books in general, and warier still of self-help books with the word “spirituality” in the title. My friends had assured me that the “spiritual” part of the Spiritual Path was open-ended, less about “spirituality” as it’s commonly understood and more about each person creating their own understanding of their personal creative flow.
As a skeptic, I find that these books often just don’t vibe with the way I see he world. And there was definitely some creative (hah) thinking I had to do to get around some of Cameron’s language. But overall it’s obvious that while Cameron may have a certain belief system of her own, she’s at least trying to create frameworks of thought that are accessible to everyone.
So here are a few things I learned about myself during the process of doing this course, and three more things I’ve changed about the way I approach creativity.
Things I Learned
1. I don’t let myself play.
This was a tough one to accept.
“Of course I know how to play,” I would think to myself. “I do things that are fun!”
Yeah, that’s not what that means.
“Play” in this case is the doing of things that bring us joy, wherein joy is the only and ultimate goal. Putting stickers on our calendars each day we write, reading something “trashy,” impulse-buying a plastic dinosaur from the toy aisle because it reminds us of when we were a Jurassic Park-obsessed six-year-old—things that our adult selves may want to scorn as “frivolous” or “wasteful”—that is the kind of play that is essential to creativity.
I came screeching right up against this block when I started trying to do the weekly “artist dates” that are presented as a nonnegotiable part of the course. This does not mean I had to go on dates with other artists: an artist date is a playdate with the self, with what Cameron refers to as “your inner artist-child.” It means taking an hour or two each week to let that child out to play. The point is to have fun, alone, in a way that nourishes creativity.
By far, this was the hardest part of the course for me.
The inner artist-child is a stand-in throughout the book for one’s creativity, which, like a child, reacts to ego wounds by trying to protect itself. This protection often takes the form of creative blocks. Sometimes those wounds came from an overly harsh mentor, or someone being cruel about early artistic attempts; just as often, the wound(s) come from general societal pressure to “be serious” and not “waste time on a luxury like art,” or well-meaning parents who insist that art is a fine hobby as long as you don’t let it get in the way of Real Things (implying that art and creativity are not Real Things, or things that matter).
To engage in the type of play that nurtures creativity, one must be able to release all of those wounds—at least temporarily. All the voices saying that “you should be bettering yourself instead” or “you are being childish and immature” or “you should be hustling, you can’t afford to take time away to browse a junk store or take yourself to the beach or go solo bowling”—they must be overcome if we’re to let ourselves really play.
And damn, those voices got loud once I started noticing them.
2. Those voices I thought I ignored really did stick in my head.
I’ve always considered myself lucky that I never received artistic feedback so unnecessarily cruel and critical that it still sticks in my head. I had adults and mentors in my early life who encouraged and celebrated my creativity.
But early in The Artist’s Way, an exercise had me identify the negative voices that popped up in reference to my own creativity, and then investigate where those voices originated, and oh, the things that came forth:
- All the times I was asked “but how are you going to make money writing?” when I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up (shockingly, eight-year-old Kelsey did not have a firm grasp of career paths, and so could not answer, which was then for some reason used as proof that there was no viable path to making money writing rather than an opportunity to explore those possibilities together).
- Being on the receiving end of an adult’s frustration when I did not want to do an elementary school extracurricular activity dedicated to art, saying that I would never become an artist if I didn’t practice, implying that I didn’t actually want to be an artist or I would be trying harder.
- That one political science professor in college who derisively referred to “art therapy” when I explained my interest in using art as a tool for conflict resolution as a career.
I didn’t think I’d internalized those voices, which were fewer than the encouraging ones. But doing The Artist’s Way course helped me recognize that I’d instead internalized those voices so well that I didn’t even realize they weren’t mine.
3. Having a harsh inner critic is not a sign of maturity.
In high school, I attended a magnet school for the arts, where I had a creative writing teacher that more than once made a student cry with his no-holds-barred approach to critique. That I was never one of those students was always a point of pride. It meant I was tough. It meant I could take criticism like an adult.
Really, what it meant was that I already believed my work was trash, so that hearing harsh criticism from anyone else never hurt worse than the criticism that I heaped upon myself.
What a helpful adaptation! I made it so that others couldn’t hurt me because I hurt myself first. Take that, George! (That was the writing teacher’s name.)
The reality is that while having a thick skin and not taking critique personally is helpful, that is not the same thing as “being so harsh on yourself that you don’t value your own work.”
That adaptation is, as Julia Cameron might say, a symptom of the wounded inner artist-child, and it is a child’s idea of what protection means. As children, we haven’t fully adopted the nuances of valuing oneself while still remaining open-minded to legitimate criticism. What we know is that hurt = bad, and that finding any way to avoid hurt feels key to our survival. And one of the ways to avoid letting others hurt our feelings is to make sure those feelings are either 1) nonexistent or 2) already hurt.
And of course, what happens when you’re an artist who doesn’t value your own work? You become a perfectionist, or you are so open to criticism from others that you start chasing their approval over your own artistic version, or you never believe in yourself enough to share your work to begin with because “oh, it’s not very good.” Boom: blocked.
So, what to do?
Julia’s thesis, more or less, is that most of our creative issues can be traced back to the wounds our inner artist-child has suffered (an important note: the inner artist-child is a way of understanding how we need to treat our creative selves—with care and encouragement—not a declaration that these wounds must have been dealt in childhood. Many are, but many can also stem from our experiences as adults).
Everyone will need different things, but for me, I learned that I need to help my inner artist-child feel safe enough to come out and play. That’s looked like:
- Learning to practice luxury. Giving myself the permission and the space to do things that aren’t always about building moral fiber, or improving myself, or virtuous suffering or any of the other Puritanical lessons of certain belief systems. And yeah, maybe I spent less than ten dollars on a book of 1,000 animal stickers that I put on my calendar every day that I work on my book. Did I need them to survive? No. Are they silly? Yes! Does it make me happy every time I get to find a little cat or rabbit to stick under today’s date? Heck yes!
- Spending more time nurturing myself. It seems like as we get older, many of us have the mistaken belief that we no longer require nurturing. We become the nurturers, or we look at nurturing as something we have transcended the need for as Serious Adults with Serious Jobs, or we just think that nurturing ourselves means making sure we eat breakfast and doing a face mask every week or so. But I’ve also been looking around at my surroundings. Do I really need those mittens with the hole in them? Don’t I deserve a nice set of bed sheets? Would a house plant brighten up my desk? I never thought of myself as a neglectful person, but once I really started looking, I realized that I’d often not been treating myself very nicely in small but meaningful ways.
- Treating myself more like a child. Ooh, this one feels wrong, doesn’t it? We don’t want to be treated like children. This required me to rethink what it means to treat someone like a child. Does it mean condescending to them, talking down to them, letting them ignore responsibilities without consequence? I hope not. Treating someone like a child should mean treating them with care, grace, and understanding: treasuring them like we would treasure someone we loved. Now, what if we treasured ourselves like that? Practiced the kind of self-talk that sounds like, “Mistakes happen. I’m sure you’ll do better next time!” instead of, “Wow, this is so You, messing up like this. You’ll never amount to anything.”
Did all this work? Well, I recently sent out a few queries “for fun,” and I’m presently partway through drafts of two different books as I wait for replies. I’d say yes.
Do you let your inner artist-child play? If so, how? (This is absolutely me trolling for artist date ideas.)
Kelsey Allagood (she/her) is a writer, occasional photographer, and trained political analyst specializing in the causes of war and systemic oppression. This background led her to begin writing fantasy fiction steeped in the anthropology of conflict.
Her writing can be found in literary magazines such as Barrelhouse, GRIFFEL, Menacing Hedge, and Wanderlust. Her photography has been featured in RESURRECTION mag. She has also written on peaceful resistance movements, art as a form of political resistance, and countering violent extremist ideology.
Kelsey has a Bachelor’s Degree in international and cultural studies from the University of Tampa and a Master’s Degree in conflict resolution from Georgetown University.
She lives in Maryland with her husband, mother, and a rescue dog named Henry.
[coffee]
Wow! Just… WOW!
Years ago, I did The Artist’s Way with a group of creative friends. It changed our lives. You’ve reminded me it’s not a “one and done” kind of thing. It’s past time to do the whole process again. And again. And again…
As often as I need to do it.
Thanks for the reminder,
Bev.
I worked through The Artist’s Way after my husband died. He had started me on my writing path by signing me up for a writing class. He asked every day “have you written today?” My answer was frequently “no, because-” and whatever the ‘because’, he took care of it except for laundry which he only did once. He believed in me when I did not believe in myself, this after years of family and friends referring to my writing as my little hobby. The Artist’s Way kept me going. Book No.16 will be released this year. Thank you for your post. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Vicki, your husband sounds like he was a complete gem <3 I'm so glad you found both use and comfort in The Artist's Way. And congrats on book 16!!!!
YES! I’ve already revisited a few of the passages I felt like I needed. It’s so nice to have another tool in my toolbox, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a few years down the line I’ll feel like doing the whole thing start to finish. Thanks for reading, Bev!!
I had to laugh when I read your post, actually several times. Twice I tried doing the Artist’s Way and another of her books/variations and failed completely. I felt like doing all she asked was a full time job. Now I’m in the midst of trying again with the variation that’s geared toward seniors or those recently retired, and for whatever reason, this time it’s clicked. The artist dates I’ve loved the most were 1) to spend an hour in an art supply store – I actually cheated and did this one a second time because it was so much fun. And yes, I did buy some things which I’m using quite a lot. Artist date 2) was to spend an hour in a music store exploring the possibility of playing a guitar. I’d tried guitar twice before and failed, in part because I have small hands and was trying with full-size guitars. The person in the store showed me what’s called a travel guitar or mini-guitar, which I can handle. I ended up with an inexpensive travel guitar that came with a case and 3 months of free online lessons, and it has been so much fun. The one Artist Date I have planned but I’ve yet to do is to visit the Ava Gardner Museum (she was born near where I am in North Carolina). I was there years ago, but with family, so I couldn’t really hang out and check out everything I wanted. I, too, thought I was good at play, but I was really only good at remembering play or thinking about it. This is very different and feels that way. Ironically, all the art and music play has given me the impetus to put more into my writing as well. There’s a lightness to life when play is a part of it. Thanks for your post!
Oh I love these ideas! I really think that practicing another creative outlet in addition to our “main” artistic focus is so important, because it gets those creative neural pathways flowing in different ways. And it can be a relief when I let myself just be bad at something, you know? I’m absolutely adding art and music stores to my artist date ideas list. Thank you!
Carol, I bought the book, It’s Never Too Late to Begin Again for my husband since he’s close to retirement. It’s been hard to get him to play–but he’s taking baby steps :) But the resistance is real. I know it all too well.
Boy did I need to read/hear this today! Thank you so much for your words of wisdom. One thing I do to nurture my inner child is go to the library and spend time reading children’s picture books.
Picture books!! This is such a great idea. Talk about bringing more play into our lives. So glad you enjoyed this, Becky!
Yeah Sylvie, I can relate. I did the Artist’s Way writing for 2-3 years, maybe 15 years ago. I filled many notebooks and as I proceeded, I found myself voicing anger, frustration. Dealing with negative memories. I finally stopped. I will say I was happy for the daily writing exercise. But I did not get to a happy place. Today, I write freely and joyfully. I post a short story weekly to my blog. I love writing. Still not sure if Cameron really helped. Probably yes.
And thanks Kelsey. Always insightful!
I found The Artist’s Way when I first started writing. The morning pages were supposed to bring up gold; instead I ended up writing myself into a depression. I got caught up in the swirl of dark thoughts and it took a long time to get out. I’ve been leery of journaling since. I did, however, enjoy the artist’s dates–they do open up windows of creativity.
Hi Sylvie, I can sympathize with the morning pages troubles. For my part, I tend to ruminate, and more opportunities to ruminate aren’t exactly helpful. I’m glad you found some enjoyment in the artist dates, though. Thank you for reading!
I could relate to #1, but #3 knocked the wind out of me with its insight. What a great post!
It’s so nice to know I’m not the only one with these experiences. Thanks so much for reading, Carinn!
My takeaways were Morning Pages and Artist Dates (aka: playful things, fun experiences). I wanted to create a list of 52 artist dates, write them on slips of paper, and toss them in a jar. Then I could “grab and go” out on an adventure. So a few years back a bunch of us created a list of ideas for “artists” dates over on the GROG blog.
https://groggorg.blogspot.com/2017/04/filling-creative-well.html
This is SUCH a fantastic idea! I’m printing out that ideas list as we speak. Thanks so much, Sue!!
I’ve heard of The Artist’s Way and have been tempted by it, but never actually tried to follow it. It felt like “too much.”
This year I started a new regimen based around my word-of-the-year: Juggle. I wanted more balance in my life going forward, weighing the demands of body, mind, and spirit. Even though that sounds pretentious, it brings me joy.
I stopped trying to write every moment of every day. Or even every day. I allocate 2 hrs to writing and focus on writing during that time. Days when I have medical excursions or extended family support get extra grace. I even take days off with no other reason than “I need a day off.”
I allocate 2 hrs every day to playing a video game and spend at least that much time reading.
As for artist dates, I started following a daily haiku prompt and meet with my inner-poet/child each morning to play with words and ideas, trying to get them into 17 syllables. I post them in response to the prompt (as one does) but I write them only for myself. I’m keeping a scrap book of them.
These are ALL such awesome approaches, and I especially love giving yourself a day off just because. I used to try treating writing like a second job with regular hours, which was of course ended up being a one-way ticket to joylessness. And the haikus!! What an amazing form of play I hadn’t thought of before. Thanks so much, Nathan!
Thanks for your thoughts on this self help classic, Kelsey. I only discovered The Artist’s Way late last year. Since November I have done my morning pages. While, like a commenter above, it often takes me to dark places or serves as an outlet for whining, these reactions have been valuable in their own way, allowing me to unload a lot of negativity and actually listen to those areas of my life that I am discontented with. And it got me writing regularly again. The weekly exercises were also a good tool, rekindling desires or fantasies that I’d long buried. As for the Artist’s Date, that was also a difficult task for me. I think I was putting too much thought into it. I stalled at Week 9. Think I’ll pick it up again now and see it through!
My friend and I also got stuck right around week 9/10, and needed a few weeks to get ourselves back on track. I wonder if there’s some common psychological thread going on there. And like you, I think at first I was absolutely putting too much thought into the artist’s dates. Ironic how we try to take play a little too seriously, isn’t it? I hope you continue to enjoy the last few weeks of the course!!
Kelsey, Your Artist’s Way commentary was helpful. I have read and used the book(s) as reference tools, dipping in and out as needed. I do agree that intensive journaling can lead to dark places, so I advocate for using what resonates in Cameron’s body of work, rather than adopting it wholesale. I believe that a writer can never have too much play, joy, or self-care.
Thanks, Kelsey. I doubt that I would have the patience or desire to do the whole “Way,” but just your overview of the idea started me thinking about ways that I’ve been blocking myself, and I started thinking about the pleasures of jumping back into the gnarly, thorny plot of my work-in-progress. (I have no trouble with the play-dates thing. It takes up a great deal of my time.)
Kelsey, your title made me laugh so much. After a few of my stories were published in children’s magazines, my neighbor, a lovely creative lady who sewed clothes and kept a beautiful garden, loaned me her copy of Artist’s Way and I loved it so much. Julia gave me permission to write about the hard things, all which I’d throw away and still do. I’ve been doing morning pages off and on for almost twenty years and it is incredible how much they help in clarifying my own thinking. The artist date has been the hardest to keep but my babies have grown up and now I have no excuses but I still have a hard time taking the time for that weekly date. However, I’ve always enjoyed the small pleasures in life (perhaps this is why I write for kids) and given that I’m a homebody, I’ve arranged my life so as to have everything within walking distance–reading, writing, singing, playing piano, gardening, playing with my pets, walking the dog, etc. The only thing missing was church but now I have that too :) My latest artist dates (about 3x/wk–I’m making up for lost time, lol) have all been a lovely walk to this church, sitting and admiring the stained-glass windows, and spending time with the Master Artist.
Thank you for a most timely essay. We’re just returned from a trip to celebrate our daughter’s graduation from college (I started writing when she was inside me–how time flies!) and I’ve been catching up on housework. I got up early to write but crawled back into bed. Tomorrow is another day!
I’ve always found Cameron’s compulsory 3 pages of morning writing too much and, as others have said, it can take you down the road to gloom. I much prefer Dorothea Brande’s approach, which requires 2 stages — 1) 15 minutes of writing first thing in the morning, on any topic — stream of consciousness, dreams, whatever you like. Then you make an appointment to write — look at your schedule and decide on a time when you will write that day. And you must keep that appointment. The idea is that you’re training the muse to appear on demand, no procrastination, no excuses. Okay, that’s an incredible oversimplification — I wrote a slightly more detailed explanation of the process here — https://www.annegracie.com/writer-resources/training-the-muse/ — but even better is to buy the book, which has been in print since the 1930’s. Every now and then I “do Dorothea” and it helps get me back on track.