How many times a day do you reach for your phone? Do you jump at a notification, spend journeys locked in on your tiny black mirror? What about during meals, or when you wake up? Does it make you feel enriched, alive? I am just as guilty as the next person: swiping, liking, scrolling. But in a world built to distract us, how can we take five or 10 minutes away from that, and instead add something enriching to our lives?
I like to look at artists for the answers. They get us to slow down and think about different ways of looking; to notice nature and beauty; time changing in front of us. They remind us of the joys of making, and in a world where AI is attempting to outsource our creativity to machines – the delight of discovering something for ourselves. Artists see the potential in something: like a word that can be joined up into a sentence that can grow into a paragraph, or book; or a tube of paint that can be used to create an image. Not only can these get us to see something from a different perspective, or teach us something about their world, but hold our attention, and invite stillness, too.
It is scientifically proven: a 2024 study commissioned by the UK government found a high volume of evidence that consuming art can improve your mental and physical health – as well as, as Sarah Karlsberg writes, “reduce healthcare costs and increase the country’s productivity”. Last month, King’s College London found that when 50 people aged 18–40 witnessed paintings in person, their stress hormones dropped by 22%. (Half the group were tested to look at copies: their levels only went down by 8%.)
Whatever our situation, art and artists can guide us all. As someone who has always kept the words of creative people close to me – whether for inspiration or reflection, to help me in relationships or structuring my day – I’ve compiled 366 short passages of wisdom for every day of the year in a new book, How to Live an Artful Life.
From words by artists including Tracey Emin and Marina Abramović to writers such as Ali Smith and Iris Murdoch, each entry includes reflections, rituals, encouragements, and creative exercises. Guided by the seasons (January’s theme is beginnings; February is love; August is beauty; November is memory), I respond to each passage, bringing the artists’ words to life, so anyone can partake in their creative act.
I wrote this book at a time when I was feeling uninspired and distracted. It was reading these artists’ words that lifted me out of a darker place: whether it was learning of the routines of writer Patricia Highsmith who made working life “as pleasurable as possible” by sitting on her bed “surrounded by cigarettes, a mug of coffee, a doughnut …” or, doing as art critic Jerry Saltz advises, when in a museum, to ask the person next to us: “What are you thinking about that?” Conversation can be the greatest starting point for ideas. Museums are historically places for dialogue, debate, community, fostering in-person connection, and, wonderfully, many are free in the UK.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, writer Hisham Matar and broadcaster Claudia Winkleman suggest looking at just one painting at a time. Revisit it at different moments, and notice how it changes depending on how you change. Or, if you don’t have access to a museum, look something up in a book or online: show it to someone else and ask them, what’s that supposed to be? As Smith told me: “Whenever you stand in front of art, you attend and something in you has been awakened to it.”
Why do we look at art? Maybe it’s because, as Paula Rego told her son, the film director Nick Willing: “An artist is someone who goes to a place where no one’s ever been before, but brings back something you’ve never seen but instantly recognise.”
Living an “artful life” doesn’t have to mean being an artist. It’s about enriching what you already have, and, as Laurie Anderson advises in an entry in December (a month that takes the theme of joy), focusing on “Whatever makes you feel free and really good.” While wellness industry courses charge extortionate fees, artists like Abramović remind us of the power of sitting still: “Doing nothing is the start of the something.”
Be in the world. Talk to people. Go to places, even if it’s not far. Look up into the expanse of the skies rather than into our tech-filtered selves. Take back your attention and give it to each other. The year ahead is a gift. Go out, seize it, and live it, artfully.
