Studio Rituals: How Five Contemporary Australian Artists Start Their Creative Day

Every artist has a routine — or at the very least, a set of habits that help them transition from the ordinary demands of life into the headspace needed for creative work. Some swear by a strict morning schedule. Others ease into their practice slowly, letting the day find its own rhythm. But nearly all agree that those first moments in the studio set the tone for everything that follows.

We spoke to five contemporary Australian artists working across different disciplines to find out how they begin their creative day. Their answers reveal that there’s no single formula for productivity — but there are common threads of intention, ritual, and trust in the process.

The Early Riser

For some artists, the magic happens before the rest of the world wakes up. The quiet hours before dawn offer a stillness that’s hard to find later in the day. No emails, no phone calls, no distractions — just the artist and their materials. Those who adopt this approach often describe the early morning as a liminal space, where the mind is still loose and open from sleep, making it easier to access intuition and imagination.

A strong cup of coffee, a few minutes of stretching, and then straight to work — that’s the pattern. No checking social media, no reading the news. The outside world can wait. The first strokes of the day are the most important, and protecting that window of focused energy is non-negotiable.

The Slow Starter

Not everyone thrives at dawn, and that’s perfectly fine. Some artists find that their best work happens later in the day, after they’ve had time to settle into themselves. Their morning might involve a long walk, time spent reading, or simply sitting with a cup of tea and looking out the window. These aren’t distractions — they’re essential preparations that prime the creative mind.

The key insight here is that creative work doesn’t always look like creative work. Sometimes the most productive thing an artist can do is nothing at all — allowing ideas to percolate beneath the surface until they’re ready to emerge. The act of making art is just the visible tip of a much deeper process.

The Ritualist

Ritual plays a surprisingly important role in many artists’ practices. It might be as simple as lighting a candle, putting on a specific playlist, or arranging the workspace in a particular way. These rituals serve as a signal to the brain: it’s time to shift gears. They create a boundary between everyday life and the creative zone, helping the artist leave behind their worries and responsibilities and step fully into their practice.

One artist described the process of mixing their palette each morning as a form of meditation — the physical act of squeezing paint, selecting colours, and arranging brushes creates a sense of calm focus that carries through the rest of the session. Organisations like the Australia Council for the Arts have highlighted the importance of sustainable creative practices, including the daily rituals that support artists’ wellbeing.

The Journaller

Several artists we spoke with begin their day by writing — not about their art specifically, but as a way of clearing the mental clutter. Morning pages, gratitude lists, stream-of-consciousness journaling — the format varies, but the purpose is the same: to empty the mind of anxieties and to-do lists so that it’s free to focus on making.

Some keep a dedicated visual journal alongside their written one, sketching ideas, pasting in reference images, and jotting notes about colour combinations or compositions they want to explore. These journals become invaluable creative resources over time — a record of ideas, experiments, and visual thinking that artists return to again and again.

The Physical Mover

Art-making is surprisingly physical, and several artists start their day with some form of movement. Yoga, swimming, a run along the beach, or simply a brisk walk around the neighbourhood — getting the body moving and the blood flowing has a remarkable effect on creative energy. It shakes off the stiffness of sleep, clears the head, and generates a physical vitality that translates directly into the work.

This connection between body and creativity is well documented. When we move, we think differently — more freely, more expansively. For artists who work on large-scale paintings or sculptures, physical fitness isn’t just beneficial; it’s essential for the sustained, demanding work of making art. The National Museum of Australia celebrates the diverse practices of Australian creative people, including the physical and spiritual dimensions of art-making.

Finding Your Own Rhythm

If there’s a single takeaway from these conversations, it’s that there’s no right way to start a creative day. What matters is finding a rhythm that works for you — one that honours your natural energy patterns, supports your wellbeing, and consistently gets you to the point where you’re making work. The ritual itself is less important than the commitment to showing up, day after day, and trusting that the work will come.