In the Basic Tools, Cameron describes morning pages — ‘three pages of longhand writing, strictly stream-of-consciousness.’ She clarifies, ‘There is no wrong way to do the morning pages.’

When we receive a creative impulse, it can come through quickly. When it arrives, it doesn’t always make sense in that neat kind of way. And when we spend time with our ideas, developing them through the creative process, meaning can be fluid. We’ll start one place and end up someplace radically different.

Some of you may know that I became a hypnotherapist and coach alongside my practice as an artist. Some people ask me if I am an art therapist. It would be more accurate to say that I am often a therapist for artists.

Have you ever felt it was challenging to feel truly free to create and express yourself? Maybe you hesitate to spend time doing the things that you enjoy — painting, singing, drawing, writing, playing the guitar, taking photos — worried that you should be doing something more practical, concerned what you make won't be good enough?

One of my mentors once shared a way of looking at how we grow and move through life. She suggested I imagine the process of drawing a flower — like a daisy or a wildflower with a circle at the centre and petals looping around.

It's springtime in London and the season of renewal takes on an even greater resonance this year. Out in the hazy sunshine, I feel myself taking gentle and playful steps in the world.

From the moment we wake in the morning until we drift back to sleep at night, we move along the path of life making decisions and taking actions that steer our life in a nearly infinite set of directions.

I recently wrote about how I'm inspired by the calm energy of kaizen, an approach that requires making small, continuous changes over time. I’m playing with methods to develop habits and behaviours to create change in my life. For a few weeks, I experimented by trying out different habits to support my creative exploration, purpose, and well-being.

Walking the streets of the surf town of Fuerteventura filled me with a sense of wabi-sabi, the Japanese concept of transience and imperfection. In the pale architecture, the wind-beaten murals, the plants filled with blooms and broken branches, the stoney black beaches, there was a sense of nature’s perfect imperfection.

The past eight months have been an exhilarating time for me, and I feel more connected than ever to my life’s dual purpose of sharing my creativity and helping others to tap into their own potential.

The Artist’s Way introduced me to a concept called the morning pages. I get up in the morning and write three pages of stream of consciousness longhand in a notebook. Then get up the next morning and do it again.