Day 78: a love letter to the creatively stuck 😩
thank you to Christina Tasooji and welcome to Rukmini Poddar
Hi friends,
As we start to enter the home stretch of the project, let’s take some time to reflect on how far we’ve come, where we’d still like to go, and what’s next beyond Day 100.
How does it feel to see your body of work grow?
Is there anything you want to commit to trying or completing in the next few weeks?
What day are you on? If you feel “behind” in any way, how might you resolve that? What would feel good and feel like respect or integrity for your process?
→ Submit your art for the Day 80 Reel.
Thank you to
for so lovingly guiding us this past week. You can follow Christina here on Substack at , on Instagram at @christina_angelique, or visit her website for more ways to work with her.Our guest this week is
. You might also remember Rukmini from this season’s podcast—more about her episode here—she’s an artist and the author of Draw Your Feelings: A Creative Journal to Help Connect with Your Emotions through Art. Rukmini has done the project every year for nearly a decade (!) and has many well-earned lessons; this week she’s sharing about getting unstuck.Here’s Rukmini:
Dear Artists,
You don’t need me to tell you what it feels like to be stuck.
Stuckness is one of the most universal feelings—and one I know intimately well.
For me, it shows up again and again in my creative life. Over the years, I’ve realized it’s not about laziness, or lack of discipline, or being “too distracted.”
More often, stuckness is emotional.
It’s fear.
It’s shame.
It’s self-doubt in disguise.
Sometimes, stuckness is loud and demanding. Other times, it’s so quiet I barely notice it—just a slow drift away from myself.
To me, being stuck feels like having my wings clipped.
Like being a bird who forgot it could fly.
It’s that aching sense that something inside of me is meant to soar—but instead, I stay grounded, flapping in circles, unsure how to lift off.
I’ll share something a bit vulnerable with you.
This year, I feel stuck. Very, very stuck. And the irony? I’m writing this about getting unstuck while still in the thick of it.
On the outside, things look great. Less than two years ago, I published my first book Draw Your Feelings with Penguin Random House. I hosted a sold-out retreat on creative healing last year—and nearly sold out this year’s retreat, too. My creative career feels more alive than ever.
But inside? I feel rife with comparison, perfectionism, and self-doubt.
And that’s the tricky thing about stuckness: it’s an emotional state.
Because we don’t see it, it can feel even more isolating.
Draw Your Feelings is more than my book, it’s become my brand and creative identity. I’ve built a life around helping people express their emotions through art. And lately? I can barely express my own emotions.
Guess what? I’ve been swimming in imposter syndrome, self-doubt, comparison, confusion—basically the entire tasting menu of creative resistance.
But the difference now is: I know this terrain.
It still sucks—but it doesn’t scare me the same way.
Over the last 10 years, I’ve come to believe that resistance is part of the creative cycle.
The more I walk in the direction of purpose, the more shadows I’m asked to meet.
And the more I meet them with compassion, the less at war I feel with myself.
I’m sharing this not because I’ve figured it out—but because the 100 Day Project has been my greatest teacher through it all. It has given me structure, momentum, and small daily invitations to move through my resistance.
This year marks my 10th anniversary doing the project.
And ironically, I haven’t “done it” in the traditional way.
Instead of an epic, public-facing creative feat…
I’ve given myself permission to pause. To go inward. To let this season be quieter.
I may still feel grounded, but I know the bird inside me hasn’t disappeared.
She’s just pausing. She’s remembering.
Today, I’m here. In the pause. In the murk.
And I welcome this part of me—not with urgency, but with curiosity.
Not to fix, but to listen.
Because being stuck is not the end.
It’s the moment before takeoff.
🌀 Prompt:
Ask yourself:
What does your unique flavor of stuckness look like?
Write down a few ways it might be showing up—avoidance, fear of starting, comparison, self-doubt, or something else.
Then, pick up a color and draw it out.
Give yourself just 2 minutes. No expectations. No plan.
Let your stuckness take shape on the page.
What color does it carry? What shape does it form?
It doesn’t need to make sense.
It just needs to move—out of your body and into the open.
Your only job is to face it, gently and honestly.
With you in the becoming,
Rukmini
 | A guest post by
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My friend Sharon, used the analogy that fields need fallow time.