Small, daily changes

Carving out space for new routines and restarting old conversations

Well hello again, and thank you for being here. It has been nearly a year since I shared my last newsletter here, but upon re-reading what I last wrote, it appears I am still living in the same headspace. Or, maybe more accurately, I am returning again to the headspace I had last spring. Perhaps it is the shift in season (though we are currently experience a return of winter) that inspires me to delve back into my creative processes. Maybe it’s simply the return of sunshine.

The problem for me forever has been a lack of routine. My paid work (wedding photography) is seasonal, and I have yet to crack the code on how to carry my creative personal projects through a busy summer. In the past, I have accepted this seasonality to my personal work, allowing myself the summer to pour all of my creativity into client work, but the older I get, the more I feel burdened by the constraints of time.

Time feels extra complicated these days. I feel desperate to make good use of my time, and more aware than ever that I don’t have forever. I want to pour myself into every idea, and as spring arrives, I feel the ideas pricking at my brain near-daily. At the same time, I feel overwhelmed by a lack of time to pursue these projects, the margins trickier than ever to find. Time, time, time…how do I befriend it instead of always rail against it?

The truth is, I need a new routine. I need to establish a different order of priorities, need to convince myself that creative projects are important and necessary. I need to re-read what I wrote last spring, engrain it into my mind, remind myself that what I want to make is valuable.

It is difficult to continue creating when the world is imploding. I want to write about the events happening in the world and also, my understanding is so limited and there’s a new catastrophe every day. But one thing that keeps oscillating in my mind is that creating art and sharing our work is more important than ever. In a world increasingly ruled by AI, fascism, and hate, humanity needs more unique art, not less.

In the weeks and months ahead, I am working to implement some small shifts in my attention and routine to make space for creative play. It feels impossible to begin as spring brings a return to my busy season, but I’m feeling ambitious. There will always be a reason to delay a change, but there will not always be time to make the change. So here I go, timing be damned.

My new year’s commitment to myself was to walk to the lake from our house everyday I was home. And while I have failed at that daily goal beautifully, I have also walked to the lake much more regularly than I did last year, so I will celebrate the improvement. The walks have been mostly on the same route, where I have witnessed small, daily changes.

In January, I watched Lake Michigan begin to freeze, then witnessed all the ways the ice shelf morphed throughout February, until it finally melted the first week of March. One day in February, I walked down Lake Street to see forty-five year-old Norway Pines utterly desecrated by a tree trimming service, all in the name of the power company. Such a difference from the day before, and since, I have seen the scattered pine boughs covered and uncovered and recovered again by snow. Last week as the weather warmed, I noticed the village deer were all out at once, moving more than they had all winter.

These walks have been a training of sorts. They have been a reminder that I can take thirty minutes to step away from my family and daily responsibilities for a moment of calm for myself. I have been training my attention while walking, too; looking for subtle changes each day. Perhaps most encouragingly, these walks have given my mind room to babble, words pounding in my head with each step on the snowy road.

I’m taking inspiration from myself and from this walking habit to see where else I can carve out room for my creativity. As a mom of young children, making space to write often feels impossible. But it also feels vital. I want to set an example for my children of a woman who continues to do what she loves, even when it isn’t easy or practical. I want to show them (and myself) that something doesn’t have to be practical or productive to be important.

I am going to be experimenting with some ways of creating in the margins in the months ahead, and I plan to share some of the journey with you. I also plan to return with some essays of life in northern Michigan, starting next week.

Thank you for sticking around, for following along, and for reading. I’d love to hear stories from you about how you make room for creativity in your life. Leave a comment and let’s inspire each other to keep making art.

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Subscription Changes

At the end of 2025, I unpaused paid subscriptions, as I anticipated restarting this regular newsletter. For now, all of my posts will be free for everyone, but I may explore some paid subscriber perks in the future (thinking of something analog). If you continue to be a paid subscriber, thank you for contributing to my ability to carve out more time for my creative work. I so appreciate it. And if you want to switch to being a free subscriber, that’s okay, too! Thanks for being here either way.

This was my sign-off from my last newsletter, and it feels fitting to share again:

I hope you allow room for creativity and play this week. I know it sometimes feels frivolous, but I promise you, it isn’t. Mess around and see what you discover.

Cheers,
Mae Stier