Finding Inspiration:
- Richard M Crosbie
- Jul 23
- 14 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
What is inspiration?
What is inspiration and where does it come from? Is it a tangible thing that can be attained on whim and taught? or something beyond our understanding? Inspiration is a complex concept. It concerns an indescribable emotional response to stimuli, often difficult to pinpoint. The word "inspiration" itself, originates from the Latin “inspirare”, meaning "to breathe into." This describes the essence of a sudden burst of enthusiasm and motivation, as if drawn from a mysterious external source. For artists, inspiration serves as the fuel that drives the pursuit of our craft, which can often be a lonely and solitary endeavour, fraught with uncertainty about the validity and benefit of the outcome.
When one feels inspired, it transcends merely having a good idea or a thought. It becomes a profound force or desire to venture into the unknown, dedicating time and energy to an activity whose outcome may not be commercially viable or financially rewarding. Yet, the will and drive to engage in this pursuit can be overwhelming. Inspiration is a blend of enthusiasm, motivation, and creativity, transforming seemingly impossible tasks into more attainable goals.
Throughout history, various cultures, philosophers, and scientists have contemplated the origins of inspiration. Artists often strive to achieve a state of mind known as "the Flow," where the process of creating art seems to emerge effortlessly, as if someone or something else has taken control, leaving the artist as a mere observer of what unfolds. This concept aligns with the ancient Greek idea that inspiration involves entering a state of ecstasy or “furor poeticus”—a divine frenzy or poetic madness. In this state, artists of the time it was beleived were transported beyond their own minds, embodying the thoughts of gods or goddesses.
The idea that inspiration transcends the artist's skill, technique, or knowledge, deriving instead from a divine source, is evident in Norse, Hebrew, and Christian cultures. In these traditions, inspiration is often seen as a matter of revelation or a gift from a divine being, particularly channelled through the Holy Spirit in the Christian context.
The idea that inspiration exists in an ethereal form outside the individual has persisted into modern times, with Enlightenment and Romantic models suggesting the presence of a "divine wind" to which creatives could attune their senses.
However, as time progressed, the understanding of inspiration shifted toward an internally generated model with psychologists such as Sigmund Freud and other later psychologists locating inspiration in the inner psyche of the artist themselves. Suggesting that inspiration was caused by unresolved psychological conflict or childhood trauma and came directly from the unconscious mind. This notion that our own internal subconscious can be the source of creative inspiration led to the artistic Surrealist and Dada movements which attempted to tap into this subconcious dreamlike font of creativity.
The idea that inspiration in high performing individuals can be classed as both a form of genius and also madness is evident in such cases as Vincent van Gogh, Virginia Woolf, John Nash, and Ernest Hemmingway who were indeed diagnosed with mental illness.
In a 2010 scientific study, researchers observed that highly creative individuals and those with schizophrenia have a lower density of thalamic dopamine receptors. This results in reduced signal filtering, allowing for a higher flow of information from the thalamus. This phenomenon may explain how highly creative individuals can perceive numerous uncommon connections in problem-solving situations, as well as the bizarre associations often found in schizophrenia, which has popularised the image of the ‘Mad Scientist’ and ‘Creative genius’
Speaking of mad scientists, there's a popular phrase often misattributed to Albert Einstein: "The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources." Regardless of its origin, this sentiment suggests that true creativity involves building upon existing ideas and influences in a way that makes them uniquely your own, rather than merely replicating them.
This highlights the importance of original thought and the ability to synthesize information from various sources to create something new. That’s why we often gather a variety of materials as references for our own creations. It’s nearly impossible to avoid being influenced by the inputs we encounter around us. We are shaped by our life experiences, drawing upon them to generate new lines of thinking. However, relying on reference materials has its limits. When one is truly inspired, great leaps in thinking and logic can unlock immense potential.
My personal inspirational moments:
Reflecting on my life, I recognize having experienced this ‘divine impulse’ at various points. As a child, I owned both a telescope and a microscope, captivated by everything related to the macro and micro universe. I would become deeply engrossed in the night sky, feeling as though I was losing myself in the grace of the unknowable. It was such a profound sensation that made me feel like I was having an out of body experience.
While watching science fiction movies, I became immersed in mysterious worlds, following my heroes on their adventures. I would recreate the scenes I had seen on screen, role-playing the stories repeatedly. Eventually, my imagination would take over, leading me to create new scenarios in a feverish, illogical manner that only a child could conceive.
This process of imitating, absorbing, and digesting what I had seen—then reconstituting it into something new—is a practice that both artists and designers engage in constantly. Thinking like a child can sometimes reveal the truth of a situation or the simplest solution to a problem. Pablo Picasso once remarked that he could draw like Raphael at the age of 14, yet it took him the rest of his life to learn to paint as truthfully as a child.
Technically, as adults, we are often more visually competent than we were as children. However, we may struggle to unshackle ourselves from the logic and reason that can inhibit our ability to dream up the impossible and create something uniquely new. Perhaps this is a crucial insight.
My personal early influences:
I remember creating both artworks and models for my local school’s “Eisteddfod” competitions. This uniquely Welsh festival celebrates arts, literature, music, and culture, featuring competitions across various disciplines like poetry, music, and dance. The word "eisteddfod" itself means "sitting together" in Welsh. These events can range from small community gatherings to the large, annual National Eisteddfod.
After winning several school-based competitions in my younger years, I developed a reputation as "the best drawer in school," a title I felt immensely proud of. However, my desire to draw, paint, and build was not driven by ego or the need to"win." It was simply a natural inclination, fuelled by an impulse I couldn't quite articulate.
Thinking back to the times when I felt truly inspired to create, I realize there was something beyond problem-solving and trial and error at work—a driving force that pushed me to great lengths. I remember working on a project for my GCSE art class, where I became obsessed with building a large robot-like character. I spent countless nights cutting, painting, and assembling cardboard onto a wooden frame until it filled my entire bedroom. I eventually had to dismantle it to get it through the door and enlisted five friends to help carry it to school. Once there, I reassembled my cardboard mechanical monstrosity amid the bewildered looks of my art teacher and classmates. Perhaps I should have pursued a career in theatre design or special effects!
There was something more at play than simply wanting to achieve a good grade at school. It was a force compelling me to expend creative energy, bursting forth from an unknown source within. The actual grade for my art project was entirely immaterial; I simply "had" to build, to paint, to bring something from my imagination into the world. This drive was constantly fuelled by my love of science fiction, alongside influences from movie directors like Ridley Scott, George Lucas, and Steven Spielberg, as well as futurists like Syd Mead and artists such as Salvador Dalí and H.R. Giger.
Costumes:
Believe it or not, one of the areas where I've felt truly inspired is in designing fancy dress outfits. From Halloween and birthday parties as a child to wild nights out as a design student, and even in my professional life during office parties, these moments have been creatively fulfilling.
Having the freedom to create something driven entirely by my own imagination—free from the usual constraints of my previous day jobs—felt incredibly liberating! Although I consider myself more of an introvert, dressing up in my self-made creations unleashed both my creativity and my inner extrovert. Perhaps this is why so many people enjoy cosplay: since it offers the chance to step outside of ones comfort zone.
I believe I share this character trait with my maternal grandfather, who also enjoyed painting, sculpting, and creating costumes—often intricately crafted and produced to a level of detail far beyond what was necessary for the office Christmas party. He did it purely for the joy of creation, and I completely understand that desire.
I remember visiting his home deep in the Welsh valleys and being surrounded by many examples of his artistry, from paintings on canvas to metal models and sculptures. Visiting my grandfather’s home felt like embarking on a fantasy journey straight out of Middle-earth, reminiscent of the world in "The Lord of the Rings".
I think being the son of a carpenter greatly influenced my sense of crafting things by hand. My father was something of a genius when it came to working with wood. I often played in his shed and workshop, surrounded by a wide range of tools that I used to build various contraptions—and occasionally cut myself!
I still carry the scars from those many creative experiments and mishaps on my hands and arms. These reminders of occupational hazards still make me smile warmly when I recall how I got them, despite the level of injury and medical attention required increasing with severity as I progressed from school to collage to university!
Pursing a Design Career:
As I continued my educational journey into the design field, I became aware of techniques to effectively solve problems and address design briefs. This usually involved identifying pain points in a given situation or process and brainstorming potential solutions. Often, these solutions were clever and practical, sometimes inspired by reference materials or historical examples. For designers, inspiration can be actively sought out, cultivated, and learned as a discipline.
Later, I pursued a postgraduate certification in design thinking, where I worked with a diverse multinational team of professionals. Together, we employed specific techniques to create new products and services. These techniques included concepts like removing a function of a product to inspire innovation, playing with the scale of a feature, duplicating a feature, or solving a problem using extremely limited resources.
This approach felt very natural to me as a product designer; in fact, it felt no different from my day job. While I could certainly perform the tasks, I didn’t feel the same level of inspiration as I had experienced in other creative endeavours. Where design tries to solve a problem or works within certain design constraints such as cost, materials or intended user, Art on the other hand is more free to explore other aspects of the human condition such a mood, feel, expression or connection.
Meeting the Right People:
Sometimes, meeting the right people in ones life can have profound consequences. One of the most inspirational individuals I had the pleasure of meeting was Richard Morris, my design teacher during my Art and Design foundation course at the Mid Glamorgan Center of Design and Technology. After finishing my A-Levels, I was preparing to pursue my interests in the arts at a higher education level, but I wasn’t quite sure which specific direction or discipline to follow.
I highly recommend foundation courses for art and design students, as they allow exploration across various areas that might otherwise remain undiscovered. I enjoyed projects ranging from graphics and pottery to filmmaking, printmaking, fashion, fine art, and product design. It was during my time in the design workshops that I met Mr. Richard Morris, and my life was profoundly changed by him. He was one of the most encouraging, positive, and energetic educators I had ever encountered, and I felt truly inspired by him.
Though he was only slightly older than the students he taught, he seemed so worldly and professional that I wanted to follow in his footsteps and study for a degree in product design at the same college as where he studied his degree, that being Ravensbourne college of Design and Communication, near Bromley in South London. And along with four fellow Welsh students from the same class, I did just that,—an unusual occurrence at the time.
The positive impression Richard left on me, led to one of the key inflection points in my life. Because I met Richard, I pursued product design, which ultimately led to a job offer in Hong Kong and a 25-year career in the toy industry. It was in this amazing city that I found myeslf when the world was put on pause during the pandemic, prompting me to rethink my life and embark on this art journey.
Going Full Circle:
I believe my transition back to creating artwork is a continuation of my artistic pursuits that were put on hold during my "side quest" in toy design. Now that I’ve come full circle to painting and drawing again, I am reexperiencing those profound moments of inspiration from sources that are hard to define and are not connected to my design training or thinking.
These moments are not driven by design briefs, or the result of some clever brain storming technique. I don’t set targeted subjects to paint unless I’m working on a commissioned project for a client. Most of the scenes I choose to paint arise from emotional responses to what I see around me. Yes, I admit to capturing some of Hong Kong’s iconic sights—trams, ferries, junk boats, and so forth—since I aim to create commercially accessible artwork for those seeking Hong Kong-inspired pieces.
However, when I paint for myself, without a specific outcome in mind, I often seek out scenes, subjects, or moments that resonate with me on a deeply personal level. Aspects and details inspire me—surface textures, reflections, and the effects of light in the environment often draw me to a subject. Making a connection with another human being who may be often overlooked in this crowded heactic city has also been something I have been drawn too. To tell stories that may go unnoticed.
Watercolour as inspiration:
I have been using watercolours for some time now, and I find that the nature and properties of watercolour painting provides its own unique inspiration and fascination.. Blending, mixing, and layering colours can lead to wonderful effects, as can the variations in brushstrokes and mark-making—both planned and unplanned.
Like many, I use social media to share my artwork with my followers, fellow artists, and peers. I often draw inspiration from the work of others, not so much in terms of subject matter but in the quality of the techniques employed. I also enjoy seeing other artists’ work in exhibitions and galleries.
I can think of three specific examples of when I saw the original paintings of 'Master' artists who I admire for the first time. Those being Leonardo Da Vinci's The Burlington House Cartoon', Pierre-Auguste Renoir's 'Umbrellas' and Salvador Dali's 'Christ of saint John of the Cross'. In each case I was moved to tears when I saw the actual work up close. It felt like meeting a rock star or seeing something created by pure divine inspiration and I was truly awe struck.
Communicating my motivations:
Initially, I wasn’t sure I could communicate my sources of inspiration to others until I had the opportunity to host my first solo show and take visitors on guided tours of my work. To my surprise, I found that I could talk quite freely about my art, as each piece has its own unique story—whether it was created on location or depicts a street scene or figure. I could share what compelled me to create it in the first place.
Previously, I selected subjects to paint for their cultural or commercial value. However, increasingly, I have chosen subjects based on mood or emotional connection—something intangible, like the way a shadow is cast by sunlight or a reflection in a window or puddle. This emotional drive to paint feels like a newly awakened sense that had lain dormant within me for some time.
In contrast to design work, which often relies on logic, reason, precision and a problem to fix, painting requires observation and an opening up of my senses and an internal emotional process that I am trying to understand and develop. I strive to truly see a place, to smell it, and to feel it.
This shift has led to one of the most rewarding outcomes I have ever experienced: when someone connects with one of my less commercial and more obscure original artworks to the point where they wish to purchase it. Knowing they sense and feel the same reasons I had for creating it in the first place feels incredibly satisfying. It validates the 'risk' I took in choosing something more esoteric in the first place.
This leads me to explore new perspectives, particularly regarding the different aspects of lighting throughout the day. Much like the impressionist painter Claude Monet, who painted the same subject repeatedly at various times, I find that the same scene can convey a different emotional character under varying environmental conditions—as he so beautifully depeicted with his Haystack series.
Sometimes, it’s the details that inspire me and draw me in. I often feel that the challenge of realism is what attracts me to a subject and motivates me to rise to the artistic challenge.
Hong Kong as a muse.
For me, Hong Kong has been a wonderful muse. The intensity of city life here is a constant source of inspiration. I also recall having a similar emotional connection to the subjects I painted while growing up in Wales—the bustling markets of the capital and the immense natural beauty of the countryside. I specifically remember painting a waterfall on canvas while waist-deep in a cool mountain pool; it was one of the best works of art I ever created, yet it is now lost to time. Perhaps I ought to recreate it again, this time in some new location where the water is a lot warmer!
I often find inspiration while exploring the countryside of Hong Kong. From the various hiking trails and mountain vistas to the quiet bays and beaches, nature and greenery have a remarkable way of calming the mind, providing inspiring views, and soothing frayed nerves. Sometimes, a walk in the park or along the beach can lead to sudden waves of inspiration. This is why I try to carry a sketchbook with me—except when standing on a typhoon-windswept vista! While the raw power of nature can be awe-inspiring and refreshing, it can also have a detrimental effect on paper!
In conclusion.
Finding the motivation and resources to tackle tasks can often feel overwhelming, especially when our energy levels dip. Even the seemingly simple act of getting out of bed for work can drain us.
Yet, when inspiration strikes, it transforms our experience into something truly extraordinary—a state of 'super living' where we tap into a heightened awareness that propels us forward and makes us feel like we are experiencing life at its best.
To reach this exhilarating state, we can engage in activities that we are naturally predisposed to and bring us closer to those moments of revelation. Perhaps its music, languages, academia or being in the company of others. Remember, inspiration is not a finite resource; it’s a vibrant, dynamic force in our lives that extends beyond the arts. By exploring the world around us, forging new connections with others, and nurturing our inner voice, we can cultivate a rich landscape of creativity in any professional or creative endeavour.
If you’re an artist, I encourage you to embrace the process of seeking inspiration; it’s as essential as the art we create. Let it guide you to new heights of expression and discovery. Listen to different music, watch thought-provoking films, have conversations with people you wouldn't normally speak to or travel to new places.
For those who may not identify as artists, my advice is to seek out something intriguing that resonates with you in your own field or tasks. Discover something ‘new’ and rewarding that you may not have known before. You might just surprise yourself as inspiration takes hold, leading you to explore uncharted territories you never thought possible.
Writing this post has been a journey of reflection for me, enhanced by the reference materials I consulted, much like how an artist relies on studies, notes and sketches to prepare for a project. My hope is that the result of this exploration also encourages you to see inspiration as an ever-present force, ready to be discovered in both the grand and the everyday moments of life.
Remember, whether you're an artist, a professional, or simply a curious soul, inspiration is waiting to ignite your passions and drive you forward. Now I pose this question to you: "How will you actively cultivate inspiration in your own life, regardless of your profession or passion?"
I invite you to share your strategies and discoveries in the comments below.
For those interested in the resources that guided my own research when writing this peice, I've included them here. May they inspire you as well! Thanks for reading and wishing you all the best for your own creative journeys, Richard.
PS. If you would like to check out some of my design projects, your welcome to visit my product design webpage here: https://richmcdesign.wixsite.com/website
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