How I Got Over Two Years of Creative Block

Original artwork © Mea Jordaan 2026

I have spent a tremendous amount of my life drawing and making art. It was my "thing" from a very young age, and I've always been inspired by the work of other artists to create my own pieces.

And then at some point that changed. Where I used to draw almost every day, I just stopped. I don't have an exact reason why, just some educated guesses.

For two years, if not more, I didn't make any art. Outside of work, I didn't draw for myself anymore. That's changed now. I'm back to drawing almost daily and I'm loving it more than ever.

I'd like to share my journey through this creative block, because I think it's something a lot of us face at some point or another. Being creatively stuck feels awful, so my intention is to help whoever may be going through it get unstuck in their own way.

Before I get into how I got over my block, I'll first discuss some of what I believe got me there in the first place. I think this matters because we don't all get stuck for the same reason. Investigating my own specific situation lets me act from a place of knowing, instead of blindly carrying on as I have in the past.

How It Started

I think this all started when I had some deep realisations about myself. While this gave me some very necessary personal insight, it also left me feeling like I didn't know or understand myself at all. This was fundamental for me. Suddenly my whole landscape had changed and nothing was familiar anymore.

At the same time that I was "trying" to "make art", I was seeing the work of other very talented, ambitious and publicly successful artists on Instagram — and I was constantly comparing my work to theirs. Before my art even existed, I would judge it against some of "the best".

This left me frozen. I was so stuck on this identity of myself as an artist that I couldn't see beyond it. I never questioned what it meant to make art for myself.

So, for a very long time, I did nothing. I would try half-heartedly every now and then, and get so overwhelmed by starting that all I would end up with was some confused half-scribble.

When Personal Growth Becomes a Creative Block

I couldn't do things the same way I always had, because I had fundamentally changed. When my operating system upgraded, my programs couldn't run the same way anymore. And one of those programs was "making art". I couldn't draw from the same well I always had, because it was no longer there.

Finding Creative Joy Through Play

I have to take a moment here to talk about Minecraft. I've loved it from the moment I first played it with no clue about what was going on or what to do.

I found inspiration in a YouTube series called Hermitcraft, where different YouTubers all play on the same server. I can't quite put into words just how much creative inspiration I drew from seeing the incredible things these people were doing in Minecraft (in particular, BdoubleO100, Mumbo Jumbo and GoodTimesWithScar). It blew my mind, and it still does to this day.

Something about creating in virtual block format really gripped me. It helped me access other aspects of my creativity.

I cannot tell you how much FUN I had being creative in Minecraft, making interesting structures and landscapes, and trying to tell a story with it all. I think this, having fun being creative in a new way, was a major boon for my art practice.

I realised I was putting so much creative pressure on my art that I was completely squashing it before it even had the opportunity to exist. Lifting that weight of expectation was crucial in freeing me from my stuck-ness.

If you're struggling with your own creative block, you may find relief by exploring a completely different creative outlet.

How I Started Making Art Again

About a year ago we went on a road trip holiday to the Garden Route. It meant a lot to us, as the last holiday we went on turned into a near-survival story when winter floods washed away the cabin we were staying in, and the whole area was left without power for days.

I took a small sketchbook and some supplies with me on this trip, and took the time to draw some of the beautiful nature that inspired me. Simple things like mushrooms, tree stumps, logs and other plants. It was nothing fancy, but it got me going. Slowly, I started sketching again.

With nothing in mind other than the simple beauty that inspired me, drawing came back naturally. Simple, quick pieces that got my ideas out of my head and into the real world. No fussing or overthinking, just acting on inspiration in very short bursts. It started off pretty rough, but I pushed through — and the more I gave myself space to explore and have fun without judgement, the more liberated my art became.

What My Art Practice Looks Like Today

At the end of a day, while I unwind, I'll sketch random stuff that comes to me very roughly and quickly. I generally try to use the whole page, otherwise I end up with lots of little overlapping doodles. I tend not to think about what I'm drawing — I just channel it, letting it flow out of my pencil. On other days, I'll go through my sketches and decide to colour in some that appeal to me. I love this part; it makes me feel so excited. And that's it.

I find that I prefer to differentiate between drawing and colouring / painting. Drawing is quick and energetic; colouring is slow and almost repetitive. They offer me different types of stimulation, and it's interesting to see what I'm drawn to on a given day. I'll naturally choose the option that balances my energy level.

So most of my art practice is time spent actually practicing. I play — having fun, making mistakes, and staying curious throughout the process. This builds capacity through experience. Sometimes I'll have enough capacity to make a bigger piece, but I put zero pressure on myself to do this. It has to feel right, otherwise it doesn't work for me.

If I'm not enjoying the process of making my art, what exactly am I doing? Do I want to "suffer" for my art, or do I want to feel liberated by it? Do I want to create from a place of expression, or a place of pressure? Not all art has to be happy, but I do believe it needs to offer some catharsis for the person creating it.

Key Insight: Art Is for the Artist, Not the Audience

I LOVE when people appreciate my art, but I cannot create art based off their expectations and appreciation. My art is deeply personal for me. I don't mean that I can't make art for other people — I have always made art for other people, even during my block. It's just not the same thing, at least not for me.

I'm speaking specifically about my practice as my own creative flow and expression, not the technical skills I utilise for the process.

In many ways, my art practice is a way for me to learn about myself. It's playful, innocent and child-like. And I think that matters. We take things so incredibly seriously, but as Osho said: have you ever seen a serious tree? It goes against our very natures to be so serious that we can't have fun or play. What is the point of it all if you can't enjoy yourself? What are you striving for that requires you to forfeit your joy? Connecting with a child-like sense of wonder has been so, so valuable for me.

I'll end off by saying this: anything worth having is worth working for. There is effort required, but that effort doesn't need to torture you — it can even be fun! It all depends on the attitude you bring to it.