
A collection of some of my lettering work created for clients and personal projects.
Image licensed via Adobe Stock
Finding focus in a fractured world requires intention, ritual and perhaps a bit of creative rebellion. We canvased our community on how to maximise your creative flow, and we share their practical, achievable tips below.
Ever feel like your creativity is really flowing? It's an incredible sensation when your mind and body are seemingly at one, crafting work you instinctively know is hitting all the right notes and bringing your vision to life, right before your eyes. But then… the notification pings. Your phone buzzes. Someone taps you on the shoulder. And you're wrenched out of that wonderful zone, and straight back into the world of the everyday.
Sucks, doesn't it?
Because understand this... Getting into a state of deep flow isn't just about being productive; it's about being fully engaged. It's also about being your most creative, in a way that feels both natural and, sometimes, almost effortless. So it's well worth protecting. To help you out, we spoke to creatives who've developed systems, rituals and boundaries that safeguard their most precious resource (uninterrupted time to think and do), and we share some of their best tips below.
You can also read the full discussion on our own social network The Studio. (Not joined The Studio yet? Do it now: it's free!)
Before you start worrying about minimising distractions, you first have to actually get into a state of creative flow. So how do you go about that, exactly?
For photo retoucher and creative artworker Sandrine Bascouert, it's partly a question of timing. "The key is to understand how my body works and work with it, not against," she explains. "I know I'm crap in the mornings, whether I had enough sleep or not. I wake up at 8, but I generally tackle admin, emails, and social media for work, rather than scrolling endlessly. Then, past 1pm, I go into full work mode."
This self-awareness pays dividends. Sandrine says she can achieve four to five hours of uninterrupted deep work, excepting toilet breaks, by aligning demanding creative tasks with her peak energy periods.
Of course, everyone's different, and the best periods to focus on creative work will vary from person to person. With that in mind, creative director Paul Leon encourages you to experiment. "If managing your flow means working between 10 pm and 2am, do that," he urges. "If you need the structure of a 9-5, then do that. If you need to dance between things throughout the day, do that. Embrace and manage that unstructured approach to work: harness it, don't fight it."
Many creatives enter a state of flow by setting aside specific periods for deep work. Branding designer and graphic designer Kosho Sugiura, for instance, has found his sweet spot happens in the early hours. "In my case, I treasure the time between 4am and 7am as my 'human-free time'," he reveals. "No notifications ring, no one calls me; my only rival is sleepiness."
Similarly, illustrator and author Juliana Salcedo guards her morning hours religiously. "I save at least an hour and a half in the morning before checking emails and getting distracted with chores," she shares. "From 9:30 to 11, I focus on the work I consider the hardest. I play no music, and I try not to check my socials."
Games designer and founder Loic Roger, meanwhile, uses a structured approach using the Pomodoro technique: "Every morning, when I have the most energy, I shut down everything and focus on my main commercial project. I follow 30-minute sprints with a five-minute pause. Every four sprints, I make a longer pause where I can open emails, read RSS feeds, and so on."
Setting aside time to get into flow is the first step; working out ways to avoid distractions is the next. Creative director Adrian Carroll has developed a simple but effective system for this. "I'll check my emails when I start, then quit out of emails," he explains. "I'll leave my phone in the kitchen. I'll check them again just before I get lunch and then repeat in the afternoon. Not looking at my phone or emails apart from at 9, 12, 3 and 6 really helps me focus."
Creative director Tony Clarkson echoes this approach. He says: "If the job's at the visual stage, I'll quit mail to avoid the 'ping' of a new email coming in and ignore my phone; they'll leave a message. Then, when I'm happy with the progress, it's back to the admin." Designer and artist Matthew Gallagher highlights a specific tool that helps with this. "The 'Do Not Disturb' feature in Mac and iOS is a boon to my productivity," he enthuses. Sometimes the simplest solutions are the most effective.
"Switch off your phone" might sound like obvious advice, but it's surprising how many creatives fail to follow this in practice. One thing that can help is developing a specific system, as creative director Erick Ortega has done. "I'll put my phone on Aeroplane mode or leave it in another room," he explains. "Then I'll put on some chill instrumental music, or a full album I love, to keep me in flow state, and set a goal of a specific time to get done with a task."
Everyone will have a method that works best for them personally, of course. But landscape architect and storyteller Blair Guppy sums up some common elements you might include. "Shut down your notifications," he suggests. "Find whatever accompaniments are conducive to focus: coffee, tea, scents. Throw on the right music. And go to town."
If you work alone, then avoiding distractions largely comes down to switching off your devices. If you work in a space with other humans, though, then things can get more complicated. That's something illustrator John Cooper is on top of. "When I work in the studio, I have a set of chunky headphones that I put on to let people know I'm incommunicado," he explains.
Putting on headphones isn't just a signal to others; it's also a signal to yourself—a creative ritual that can help you get into a flow state more easily. That's something illustrator Annie McGee is a big fan of. "I've learned that my creativity needs rituals," she says. "My favourite is a creative outfit. If I'm painting, it's a blue boiler suit splattered with colour. If I'm drawing, it's my 'studio uniform'. As soon as I put it on, my brain switches into maker mode."
Similarly, designer and illustrator Sam Hawkins uses audio as an anchor. "I plug into a familiar audiobook to help my brain settle and focus," she says. "There's something comforting about listening to a well-loved story. It makes even the most daunting tasks feel a little more manageable."
So far, we've discussed ways to avoid distraction. But it's worth noting that not all creatives fight distraction—some actually work with it.
Art and design student Kirsty Hepworth, for one, has developed a philosophy of creative chaos. "I will always try to create work within the chaos," she explains. "My brain will try and think creatively about: 'How can I get this piece of work done, without trying to restrict the chaos?'. You can't always reschedule the chaos, because the more you try and restrict it, the harder it becomes to embrace the imperfections."
It's also worth remembering that some distractions are unavoidable, not least intrusive thoughts that pop into your head uninvited. Kosho offers a practical tool for managing them. "I seal them away in my 'distraction notebook'," he explains. "Ultimately, maintaining flow isn't about stoicism, but a little trickery. Rather than banishing chaos, simply setting aside a space for it surprisingly brings calm."
Ultimately, protecting your flow isn't about becoming a hermit or abandoning collaboration. It's about being intentional with your attention and creating the conditions that allow your best creative work to emerge. As Paul puts it: "It's not about the hours, but about the quality and the outcome."
Different people's methods vary wildly: from Kosho's pre-dawn sessions to Annie's creative uniforms to Adrian's phone-free kitchen strategy. But what matters is finding what works for you and defending it fiercely.
In a world designed to fragment our attention, creating space for sustained creative thinking can make the difference between work that is good and truly great. Finding a flow state can become a major competitive advantage, your source of breakthrough ideas, your path to work that matters. So work on it, think about how to enhance it, and guard it with your life. Those Instagram and TikTok notifications can wait.
In the Jordanian desert, Syrian families displaced by war huddle atop stacks of boxes like stalwart islands in a dry and unforgiving landscape. Photographer Nick Brandt captures children, siblings, and entire families who stand together and climb skyward like monuments or promontories—what the artist describes as “pedestals for those that in our society are typically unseen and unheard.”
The series marks the fourth chapter in an ongoing series called The Day May Break, which has taken Brandt around the world in search of visual stories illuminating the effects of the climate crisis.
Brandt began the series in 2020, reflecting on myriad experiences of “limbo,” both in the midst of the pandemic and relating to the tenuous ecological balance of our planet. In an essay accompanying Chapter One of The Day May Break, Brandt writes:
Nearly twenty years ago, I started photographing the wild animals of Africa as an elegy to a disappearing world. After some (too many) years seeing the escalating environmental destruction, I felt an urgent need to move away from that kind of work and address the destruction in a much more direct way.
Brandt began the series in Zimbabwe and Kenya, focusing the first chapter on portrayals of both people and animals that have been impacted by environmental degradation and destruction. Every person he documented was deeply affected by the changing climate. “Some were displaced by cyclones that destroyed their homes,” Brandt says. “For some, like Kuda in Zimbabwe, or Robert and Nyaguthii in Kenya, it was more tragic: both of them lost two young children, swept away by the floods.”
For Chapter Two, Brandt traveled to the Senda Verde Animal Sanctuary in Bolivia, where wildlife affected by trafficking and habitat destruction are cared for. And for Chapter Three, subtitled SINK/RISE, he took his camera into the ocean off the coast of Fiji, focusing on individuals whose livelihoods have been impacted by rising sea levels. Plunging decrepit furniture onto the sea floor, individuals and families interact with one another entirely underwater.
For the series’ newest addition, Chapter Four, subtitled The Echo of Our Voices, Brandt traveled to arid Jordan, one of the most water-scarce countries in the world. The dramatic black-and-white photos feature refugee families who fled the war in Syria. Perched on stacks of cubes, they transform into living monoliths, symbolic of resilience, surrounded by the rugged, sandy expanse.
The photographer says, “Living lives of continuous displacement largely due to climate change, they are forced to move their homes up to several times a year, moving to where there is available agricultural work—to wherever there has been sufficient rainfall to enable crops to grow.” Parents stand alongside their children; siblings embrace; and families are shown alternately gazing into the distance, turning to one another for comfort, or taking time to rest.
“This chapter is different from the first three chapters, both visually and emotionally: a show of connection and strength in the face of adversity; that when all else is lost, you still have each other,” Brandt says. Explore much more work on his website.
Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $7 per month. The article Nick Brandt’s Photos Stress the Resilience of Syrian Refugees in the Face of the Climate Crisis appeared first on Colossal.