The artist dates I'm taking myself on this winter
A seasonal guide of 12 small adventures for your inner creator
This past year has felt like a quiet homecoming in my creative life. For so long I was building someone else’s dream and squeezing myself into the empty spaces left around it. But when I lost my biggest client this summer, something in me finally loosened. Suddenly there was room to breathe again. Room to remember who I am when I’m not running on obligation and autopilot. And in that space, the smallest rituals started calling me back; reaching for the notebook in my drawer, craving old books, and writing simply because I wanted to see where the words would take me.
This autumn, I started taking myself on very unofficial Artist Dates. Nothing fancy. Just a walk in the woods that cleared my head, or a warm drink in a café while I scribbled down whatever was true that day. I didn’t realise just how tuned out I’d become from my own creative self until I began tuning back in. It felt like slowly waking up in the middle of my own life. But more than anything, it made me realise how much I’d missed nurturing this relationship with myself that had to sit in the shadows for so long. Then the other week I planned one on purpose, inspired by another writer on here (you’ll see it as week one below) and it lit something up in me. It felt healing in the simplest, most unexpected way. It so it made me want to get more intentional and carve out a regular practice each week where I can connect more deeply to myself and my creative work.
Think of these as my version of Artist Dates (a term Julia Cameron uses in The Artist’s Way): small, weekly solo moments that feed your inner creative and help you step out of the noise for a while.
My hope is that your Arist Dates this winter feel the same. Simple. Nourishing. Entirely yours. You don’t need anything elaborate, unless you want to make it a whole moment of course. You do you. Think of this as a gentle way to meet yourself where you are, right in the middle of a season that naturally pulls you inward.
So this is where we start.
And just a tiny note before we begin: I’ve included twelve artist dates here because my intention it to try one of these each week throughout the season. But you absolutely don’t need to do all twelve. Even choosing just one to weave into your season can shift something in you. Or if you want to make it fun, close your eyes, pick a number between 1 and 12, and let that one guide you for the season.
DECEMBER—The Deepening
Week 1: Set the foundation | Notes to your younger self
This one comes straight from a recent post by Jen Carrington, whose work has genuinely been a lighthouse for me for many years. I’ll link to her piece ‘Notes to my younger self’ so you can read it before you begin.
After you read Jen’s post, notice which ages in your own life suddenly pull at you. Maybe the ones that still feel fragile or profound in some way. Write a short note to each of those younger selves. All of them if you need to. Tell them what you know now, what softened, what hurt, what grew. If you’d like, choose a different song for each age your writing to, and let the music bring you closer to that version of you. These little letters are quiet reminders that your past selves weren’t just fleeting moments, they were a part of your creative lineage, and speaking to them helps soothe something in your present-day self.
⏱ Suggested time: 30+ minutes
What you need: a pen, a few pieces of paper, and a private space as this may get emotional.
Week 2: Tending your world | Close the chapter like an author
Hand craft a tiny 14-page mini book from a single sheet of A4 paper (it’s easier than you think) to help your mind mark the emotional transition of a new year more clearly. Give your year a title, then use the small pages to reflect on your chapters or months; the plot twists, the lessons, the joys, the things that stretched you. Winter naturally invites closure and this tiny book can become a physical way to say, this chapter is complete. thank you for what you taught me.
⏱ Suggested time: 60 minutes
What you need: A4/US letter paper, scissors, optional glue stick, pen
Bonus: Write a wish for your next chapter on the back page.
𖥔 The rest of the Winter Artist Dates are for paid subscribers—Inside I explore the full 12 weekly dates; gentle prompts, creative pauses, and small practices that help you stay connected to yourself when the season gets louder or heavier. It’s slow, cosy, reflective, and designed to be a seasonal creative guide you can return to each week. If you’d like to join us and get the full guide, you can upgrade below. Thank you for being here, and for supporting quiet long-form work in a world that moves fast.





