The Boredom of Creativity
Creativity is supposed to be fun, right? Creative people are quirky, full of energy, always playing around until ideas magically appear as songs, books, paintings. That’s the myth, anyway. The truth is less romantic. Sure, there are flashes of inspiration, moments when the world seems to click into place. But the long expanse of creative work — the bit between idea and finished product — is filled with repetition, logistics, and, frankly, boredom. And if we refuse to see that, if we demand constant inspiration, we set ourselves up for failure.
A weekend with Valravn
In 2012 I got the chance of a lifetime: to roadie for one of my all-time favourite bands, Valravn, on a festival tour in Germany. On paper, it sounds like pure creative heaven. Music, travel, a stage — what could be more exciting?
But here’s how it actually unfolded. First came the long van ride from Copenhagen to southern Germany. Hours of Autobahn — no wild inspiration, just steady driving and gas-station coffee. The next day was equipment setup, and if you think that’s party mode, think again. Festival load-ins are pure discipline: cables, cases, sound checks, safety. I’ve worked in fintech where lean processes are king, and honestly, a good stage manager could teach any operations director a lesson or two.
Finally, the concert. Surely that’s where the magic happens? In part, yes. The crowd cheers, the songs are tight, the atmosphere builds. But the setlist is the setlist. The band has played these songs hundreds of times. It’s not about how they feel in the moment; it’s about delivering with consistency. The bartender isn’t drinking — he’s serving you the beer. The one true burst of raw inspiration came in an improvised solo: the drummer, Juan, stepped forward and, for five glorious minutes, created something alive and unrepeatable. The crowd leaned in, the band held back, and he spun sound out of pure intuition. Five minutes of pure invention, pulling sound out of the air, reading the room, feeding on the energy. That — right there — was creativity in flow. Five minutes out of a twelve-hour day.
Then, as quickly as it came, it was back to the structure: the next song, the next cue, the next line on the checklist.
And when it was over? No wild after-party. Just tired bodies, late-night packing, and an early morning drive back to Denmark with little sleep.
Why this matters
That weekend taught me something I keep forgetting: most of creativity is not about inspiration. Stagework might begin with improv, but eventually you hit your duct-tape mark, night after night. Writing a book might start with a rush of ideas, but in the end it’s grammar checks and rewrites of chapter one, over and over again. Research into creative work backs this up: flow exists, but it’s framed by routine and repetition, and on most days creative professionals spend far more time editing, rehearsing, and refining than they do in “the zone.”
Embracing the dull
The boring bits are not a failure of creativity — they’re its foundation. If you expect creativity to only be real when it’s fun, you’ll burn out. The trick is to see the tedium as part of the craft. A concert needs the long drive. A book needs the rewrites. A painting needs the careful layering. I’ll be the first to admit I fail at this all the time. I chase the sparks and groan at the grind. But I’m learning — slowly — that the boredom isn’t the opposite of creativity. It’s the ground it grows from.
Sources for context
Teresa Amabile & Beth Hennessey, Creativity (Annual Review of Psychology, 2010).
Harvard Business School (2021), The Turn Toward Creative Work.