The Art of Solitude
Finding creativity in quiet moments
“The only journey is the one within” - Rainer Maria Rilke
Like most artists, I spend a lot of time alone.
It wasn't something I planned or even consciously chose at first, it just happened naturally.
But being alone isn't the same as being lonely.
The Necessity of Solitude
For me, as an introvert, solitude is a necessity. It's how I recharge and how I connect to my inner world. While others might find energy in crowds, I find mine in the quiet spaces between thoughts. It's like tending to an internal garden—you need those quiet moments to let things grow.
Over time, I've realized that solitude is also part of my art practice. Even when I'm listening to music or a podcast while I draw, being alone allows me to get into a flow state. The music becomes a soundtrack to my thoughts, the podcast a gentle companion voice that doesn't require responses or reactions.
The Challenges and Gifts
Solitude isn't always easy. There are days when the silence becomes heavy instead of peaceful, when I catch myself talking to my houseplants to hear a voice respond, even if it's my own. On those days, solitude can feel like an ocean I'm floating in without a shore in sight.
But more often, it's exactly what I need.
One thing about spending a lot of time alone is that you learn to love yourself more, and that's always a good thing. You become your own best friend in a way. You understand your rhythms, your moods, what makes you feel creative, and what shuts you down. You stop needing external validation for every little thing because you develop an internal compass, a sense of what feels right for you and your work.
A Kind of Rebellion
In moments when it's just me and the artwork, existing together in this pocket of time that belongs to no one else, I hear myself most clearly—not the voice that compares my work to others, or worries about deadlines, but the deeper voice that remembers why I create in the first place.
It's not about isolation… It's about presence.
And time moves differently because I'm not watching the clock, I'm watching the work unfold.
In a world that moves fast, that presence feels like a kind of rebellion.
We live in a culture that's constantly asking us to be "on"—to network, to share, to be available at all hours. Solitude has become almost suspicious. People worry when you choose to stay home, as if contentment with your own company is somehow a character flaw that needs fixing.
But there's an important distinction to make: there's a difference between chosen solitude and isolation. Healthy solitude is like a well you can draw from; it replenishes you. Isolation is like a wall; it keeps everything out, including the good things.
Making Room
If you're someone who spends a lot of time alone, whether by choice or circumstance, I hope this reminds you that there's something beautiful in that space.
Maybe you're an artist, or maybe you're someone who just feels more like yourself when you have room to breathe. Maybe solitude is how you process the world, how you make sense of everything that's happened and everything that's yet to come.
Solitude makes room for listening to the voices usually drowned out by noise, for healing the parts of ourselves that need quiet to mend, for creating things that can only emerge when we're not performing for anyone else.
It makes room for the unexpected: for thoughts that surprise you, for ideas that show up uninvited but welcome, for the kind of self-discovery that happens when you're not trying to be anyone other than exactly who you are.
The next time you find yourself alone—whether in your studio, at your desk, or simply in a quiet corner of your day—I hope you'll remember that you're not missing out on something happening elsewhere. You're present for something that can only happen here, in this moment, with just you.
There's a whole world that exists in solitude, waiting to be discovered. And sometimes, the most profound connections we make are the ones we make with ourselves.
Until next time,
xo
Isabelle
P.S. If you’d like to watch a video version of these reflections on solitude as an artist, you can watch my latest YouTube video here.