For a long time, I thought creativity had to look a certain way. If I wasn’t writing, I probably should be writing. If I wasn’t working on a manuscript, I should be brainstorming a new story, editing a chapter, or planning my next book.

Sound familiar?

What I’ve learned over the years is that creativity isn’t a single road. It’s more like a network of winding paths that often lead back to one another. Writing may be my primary creative outlet, but it’s certainly not my only one.

When I’m not working on a story, you’ll often find me scrapbooking, journaling, Bible journaling, junk journaling, or working on any number of creative projects that catches my attention.

At first glance, those hobbies may seem completely unrelated to writing. But I’ve discovered they’re connected in ways I never expected. When I’m creating a scrapbook page, I’m still telling a story. When I’m journaling, I’m exploring thoughts and ideas. When I’m designing something beautiful on a page, I’m exercising the same creative muscles that help me build settings, imagine characters, and write scenes.

The medium changes. The creativity doesn’t. In fact, some of my best writing ideas have arrived when I wasn’t writing at all.

They’ve appeared while taking a walk. While organizing photos. While working in a journal. While quietly creating something with my hands.

I think part of the reason is that creativity needs room to breathe.

Sometimes stepping away from a manuscript is exactly what allows a story problem to solve itself. Sometimes inspiration arrives when we stop chasing it.

One of the things I love most about creative hobbies is that they remind me there’s no pressure to be productive.

No deadlines.

No word counts.

No expectations.

Just the simple joy of making something.

As writers, we spend so much time thinking about finished books, publication dates, and future projects that we sometimes forget the importance of creating simply because we enjoy it. That’s something I’m still learning.

Creativity doesn’t always have to lead somewhere. Sometimes the process itself is enough. Sometimes creating something beautiful is reason enough. And perhaps that’s why creative hobbies matter so much.

They refill the well. They spark new ideas. They help us slow down. And often, they bring us back to our writing with renewed energy and inspiration.

I’d love to know—what creative hobbies bring you joy?

Whether it’s gardening, knitting, photography, painting, crafting, baking, or something entirely different, tell me about it in the comments.

I always enjoy discovering the many ways people express their creativity.

Lately, I’ve noticed something about creativity.

It rarely stays in one place.

When I’m deep into writing a novel, I often find myself wanting to create in other ways too. Sometimes it’s through paper and glue, sometimes flowers and watercolor, and sometimes a handful of seashells collected along the shore.

This spring and early summer have been filled with small creative moments.

A few friends and I gathered to create watercolor backgrounds, watching colors blend and bloom across the page in ways we never quite expected. I’ve spent afternoons working with pressed flowers and bits of nature, tucking tiny leaves, petals, and treasures into journal pages and handmade projects.

I’ve also been happily immersed in junk journaling, one of my favorite ways to combine creativity, memory-keeping, and storytelling. There is something satisfying about giving new life to old papers, vintage images, scraps of ribbon, and forgotten ephemera.

Another creative adventure this season has been working on not one, but two Sisterhood of the Traveling Journals. If you’re unfamiliar with them, these journals travel from person to person, each participant adding their own creative touch before sending them along to the next stop on their journey. It’s always exciting to see how each person interprets a theme and contributes their own style to the pages.

And because I never seem to have just one project going at a time, I’ve also been dreaming up a mixed-media canvas featuring seashells and sea glass. The idea is still taking shape, but I can already picture the colors, textures, and memories of the coast woven into the finished piece.

Outside, creativity has found its way into the garden as well.

I’ve been planting, tending new growth, and adding whimsical touches to my fairy garden. Every year it seems to evolve a little more, becoming its own tiny world tucked among the flowers and greenery.

What strikes me most is how connected all of these projects really are.

Whether I’m writing a story, arranging pressed flowers, building a journal page, or planting something new in the garden, I’m doing the same thing: creating something from imagination and possibility.

Some projects become books.

Some become journal pages.

Some bloom quietly in a garden.

And all of them bring joy.

I’d love to hear what you’ve been creating lately. Have you been crafting, gardening, painting, journaling, or trying something entirely new?

Pull up a chair and tell me all about it.

Happy creating,

Lori

Some of the most meaningful things I create are the ones no one ever sees.

They’re not part of a book.
They’re not shared online.
They’re not meant to be finished or perfect.

They’re just… mine.

A page in a journal.
A bit of scrapbooking.
A quiet moment spent arranging paper, color, and memory into something that feels right.

There’s no pressure in those moments.

No deadlines.
No expectations.
No voice asking if it’s “good enough.”

Just the simple act of creating.

And I’ve come to realize how important that is.

Because when creativity becomes tied only to output or productivity, it can start to feel boring, or more of a ‘job’ than a hobby I enjoy.

But when it’s allowed to be playful… exploratory… even a little messy…it becomes something else entirely.

Restful.
Restorative.
Joyful.

And somehow, without trying, those quiet creative moments always find their way back into my writing.

A feeling.
A detail.
A spark of inspiration I didn’t know I needed.

A gentle reminder that creativity doesn’t have to be shared to be meaningful.

Sometimes, it just has to be experienced.

Today was one of those days.

I spent several hours with two dear friends—paper, glue, scissors, and all kinds of creative bits spread out across the table. We talked, we laughed, we shared ideas, and somewhere in between, we each worked on our own little projects.

There was no pressure to “finish” anything.
No expectations.
Just the simple joy of creating.

And, of course, there was a lovely lunch in the middle of it all—because somehow, food always tastes better when it’s shared around a table filled with conversation and easy laughter.

We’ve started doing these “crafty days” once a month, and I didn’t realize at first how much I needed them.

Not just for the creativity…
but for the connection.

There’s something special that happens when you gather with people who understand the quiet pull to make something with your hands. Whether it’s writing, scrapbooking, journaling, or any kind of creating—it’s not really about the finished piece, is it?

It’s about the feeling.

The slowing down.
The noticing.
The sharing of ideas and encouragement.

The gentle reminder that creativity doesn’t have to be rushed or perfected—it just needs space.

I came home tonight feeling inspired… but also grounded.
Like a part of me had been quietly refilled.

And it made me wonder—

Do you have something like this in your life?
A rhythm, a gathering, a small tradition that gives you space to create and connect?

If not, maybe this is your gentle nudge to start one.
It doesn’t have to be elaborate. Just a table, a few supplies, and someone to share it with.

Sometimes the simplest days end up meaning the most.

☕
Lori