Attuning to the Intelligence of the Body
The following article was commissioned for the JULY/AUGUST 2025 issue of the Visual Artists Ireland News Sheet
AOIBHEANN GREENAN OUTLINES A HOLISTIC MODEL FOR THE CREATIVE PROCESS, ROOTED IN FOUR INTERDEPENDENT PRINCIPLES.
As artists, we intuitively understand that creativity moves in cycles, much like the seasons. A burst of inspired output is often followed by a quieter, more fallow phase. This isn’t a failure of discipline; it’s a vital part of the process – a time when experiences and ideas compost, becoming fertile ground for the next creative surge.
Trouble arises when cultural expectations clash with these natural and intuitive rhythms. Conditioned to constantly produce, we interpret inevitable slowdowns as ‘procrastination’ or ‘creative block.’ But what if these moments aren’t a deficiency, but a misalignment – between the pace we’ve internalised and the pace we actually need?
Our creative cycles are no different from the rhythms of growth, rest, decay, and renewal found in nature. It’s only our disconnection from this perennial wisdom that distorts the process. In recent years, I’ve been leaning into the intelligence of the body, which is attuned to the pulse of life in ways that we can’t always grasp intellectually.
Through this act of listening, I’ve begun to embrace a more holistic model for the creative process, rooted in four interdependent principles: curiosity, creation, curation, and connection. Each principle relates to a classical element and its corresponding season, as honoured in many ancient cultures and traditions, thereby offering a potent metaphor for the creative life cycle, with all its ebbs and flows.
Curiosity (Air | Spring): Air is light, mobile, and expansive. It represents intellect, inspiration, and the circulation of ideas. You know you’re in this phase when you’re following threads of interest without knowing where they’ll lead – reading widely, diving into rabbit holes, making unlikely connections. You may feel more sociable, hungry for input, and open to new perspectives.
The key here is to stay untethered. Your only job is to follow the sparks and gather what you find. Keep a notebook or digital folder for scattered thoughts. The dots don’t have to connect yet – just let them accumulate. Slowly, a landscape begins to form. Without this phase of expansion, future work may lack depth and vitality.
Creation (Fire | Summer): Fire is radiant, transformative, and energising. It represents passion, will, and creative force. This is the phase of decisive action – moving from potential to form. You’ll know you’re here when collecting ideas no longer satisfies; you feel compelled to make. Where before your perspective was wide-ranging, it now sharpens into focused intention. You feel lit up with inspiration and drive.
This stage calls for discernment. You’ll need to let go of certain ideas to fully commit to the one that feels most alive. Can you articulate your intention in one clear sentence? Paradoxically, this narrowed focus creates greater freedom to experiment. All that’s required is your commitment. As momentum builds, the idea will evolve in surprising ways.
Curation (Earth | Autumn): Earth is solid, grounding, and integrative. It represents stability, discipline, practicality, and structure. This is the time to harvest the fruits of your labour and shape them into a coherent whole. It’s about bringing clarity and refinement to what you’ve created. You may find yourself editing, organising, and pruning. Your pace slows; your rhythm becomes more methodical.
You’re envisioning the work beyond the studio – experimenting with arrangement and how the pieces speak to one another. This phase requires gentle ruthlessness. Not everything will make the final cut – but even the cuttings can seed future work. This is an ideal time for studio visits or feedback. As you reflect on what you’ve made, outside perspectives can help illuminate what has now emerged.
Connection (Water | Winter): Water is fluid, receptive, and purifying. It represents intuition, wisdom and emotional depth. With enough distance from the work, this is the moment to reflect on the full arc of the cycle and tend to your relational web. Connection flows outward and inward.
This is a potent time for sharing through presentations, interviews, or casual conversations sparked by your work. It’s also a time for receiving – by witnessing the creations of others, attending shows, and engaging with your creative community. After intense output, there is deep nourishment to be found in stillness, if you can invite it.
All four principles weave through every stage of the creative process. The aim isn’t to isolate them, but to notice where you are in the cycle and tend to that moment with care. What matters most is being present and gently attuned to your body’s capacity. Rather than pushing past your natural rhythm, can you sense where your energy most wants to go?
Ultimately, this can be part of a decolonial practice: resisting extractive systems that demand constant output and remembering that creativity – like life – moves in cycles. Reattuning to the body’s wisdom is one way we begin to unlearn these inherited pressures and allow your process to breathe.