My New Year’s Day Creativity Practice
A simple creative practice to begin the year with intention.
Photographed New Year’s Day 2012
Every New Year’s Day, I make a piece of art.
There are no rules beyond that. No resolutions attached. No expectations of what it should become. I set aside as a quiet space, step away from the noise of “starting fresh,” and let my hands do what they need to do.
I started this practice in 2012, almost without realizing I was starting a tradition. What began as a single day of focused making slowly became something I protect. One intentional pause at the beginning of the year. One moment of listening instead of planning.
Over time, I noticed something unexpected. The piece I make on that day often reflects where I am internally, sometimes more clearly than words ever could. It isn’t about productivity or output; it’s just me and my imagination. The gift of beginning the year in relationship with myself, rather than in reaction to the world.
What follows are a few of those New Year’s Day pieces. Each one marks a moment in time, not as a record of achievement, but as a quiet witness to what was unfolding beneath the surface.
New Year’s Day 2012 Photo
2012 – Green Springs Park creek
Long exposure. Blue and still.
This was a breakthrough year in my photography. Making this image felt like crossing a line into true understanding. I wasn’t just taking pictures anymore. I was learning how to slow down enough to really see.
New Year’s Day 2017
2017 – Lake Accotink and the bridge
Movement. Transition. Standing between places.
This was the first year in our new house, and I was drawn to documenting the quiet beauty of the park near us. The bridge feels important in hindsight. A symbol of settling, crossing over, and beginning to root.
New Year’s Day 2024
2024 – The Soul Tree
Expansion. Roots. Something internal becoming visible. Souls returning home
This piece came through me without planning or thinking. It was a true soul piece. One of those rare moments where the work feels inevitable, as if it already existed and I was simply catching up to it.
New Year’s Day 2026
2026 – Primal Connection
Presence. Embodiment. Connection. Animals.
This piece is about returning. About reconnecting with the sacredness of humanity and animals. About remembering that we belong to each other, and to something older and deeper than words.
Some years are photography. Other years are paintings. The medium isn’t the point. Last year I went into the woods with my iPhone, leaving my fancy camera at home.
What I love about this practice is that it grounds me in a sacred creative space. I look forward to it but I never plan it. I just know, I will.
I don’t do this to capture a year or set an intention for what’s ahead. I do it for me. To begin the year having already listened to myself.
This practice reminds me that creativity doesn’t need urgency or explanation to be meaningful. It only needs space. A moment of quiet. A willingness to show up without knowing what will happen next.
If it offers anything beyond my own grounding, I hope it’s permission. Permission to mark time in my own way. Permission to claim a small ritual that belongs only to me. Not as a resolution, but as a relationship.
For me, this one day of making is sacred. It sets the tone, steadies my footing, and reminds me that before the year asks anything of me, I get to meet it on my own terms.
