Lately, I’ve been paying close attention to how sound—or the absence of it—shapes my painting process. It’s something I hadn’t really questioned before. I’d simply put on whatever music felt good in the moment or let silence fill the space. But as I worked on my latest collection of abstracts, I started noticing patterns. Certain sounds influenced my color choices, the way I moved the paint, and even the direction of a piece.
In silence, I find an immediate flow—an ease in laying down those first layers. But over time, I can lose myself in the process. Without an external rhythm, I sometimes go too far, overworking until all the light and movement I loved at the start gets buried. It’s like drifting out to sea with no sense of where I began.
So I started experimenting. Instead of choosing music based on mood, I matched it to different stages of my process. I begin painting in silence, letting intuition lead. But when I hit that inevitable stuck place—where I’m pushing too hard, where nothing feels quite right—I bring in sound to guide me forward.
helps me stay in the flow while keeping me grounded. Phosphorescent pulls me out when things get too heavy or muddled, helping me reset. And R. Carlos Nakai slows me down, reminding me to breathe and be more intentional with my marks.This week, I’ve been drawn to an instrumental jazz station. It seems to hold the perfect balance—enough structure to keep me tethered, enough freedom to let me wander. The right sound at the right moment can be a lifeline, a quiet nudge in the direction the painting wants to go.
I wonder—how does sound influence your creative process? Do you work best in silence, or does music shape the way you create? I’d love to hear.
This is exactly the kind of creative exploration I’m excited to share at my retreat in France next month—where it’s not just about technique, but trusting the process and getting inspired. If you're feeling spontaneous, feel free to reach out with any questions—there's one single room left.
To me, creativity isn’t about forcing inspiration—it’s about learning to listen. To the quiet, to the rhythm, to the space between. Sometimes we need stillness to begin. Other times, we need a shift—a song, a walk, a new perspective—to carry us forward.
This week, I’m leaning into a gentler rhythm—one that invites space for inspiration, trust, and deep listening. I’ve just finished my nonfiction book proposal, and I’ll share more about it with you soon. In a few weeks, I’ll begin sending it out into the world, seeking the right literary agent who can help bring this vision to life: a beautiful book about creativity and creative living.
I’ll share more in the months to come, but for now, I’m holding space for what’s next—believing that what’s meant for us will always find its way.
Because happy painting isn’t just about making art. It’s about embracing our unique gifts, being fully present, and finding joy in the process.
If you’re feeling stuck today, I offer this: Step away. Change the rhythm. Shift your perspective. Trust that the spark will return, often in the quiet moments when you least expect it. Keep your heart open. The way through is closer than you think.
All photos and artwork by Juliette Crane
I've always done everything with background music. Since I was growing up in middle/high school and beyond. It has always been something to calm me. Get me through the things that needed getting done and then to wind down. It has always been an influence into my inner self as I go through each day. Can't live without it now! Love the way you groove...
A fascinating experiment! Your work is gorgeous too.