The Internal Spark Creating an Outward Ripple
At Creative Waikato, we often talk about how creativity is something we’re naturally born with, part of what makes us human. But it’s also something we can drift away from when life becomes busy or overwhelming. Everyone carries their own creative spark in colourful, quirky and unique ways or talents. When life gets ‘busy’ and ‘heavy’ that spark gets buried or pushed to the side. And then what happens to it?
When I started writing this, I kept coming back to the idea that every creative practice begins with something small… a feeling, a curiosity, a nudge. A voice inside us saying, “Make this, do the thing”. It starts quietly but it has the potential to grow far beyond us.
For me, that spark goes way back to when I was a child. Belting out Disney or musical theatre songs with my mum in the car (anything from ‘The Little Mermaid’, ‘Cats’ ‘Once on This Island’ or ‘Into the Woods’ being personal favorites), dancing and twirling around my bedroom, splashing colour across journals, scrapbooking, crocheting half-finished things and acting out dramatic little Barbie plays just to name a few.
I grew up in such a creative, vibrant household, and those early sparks shaped who I am long before I realised it.
Eventually there comes this moment where the spark wants to move outward. You want others to feel even a little bit of the joy or peace that creating gives you. And for many of us, that shift becomes more than just creating or sharing our own art. It turns into creating opportunities for other people to share theirs too.
Leading community groups or creative teams, organising shows, sitting on boards, applying for funding, unlocking opportunities for people who are still finding their spark. It’s big work. It’s heart work. It’s fulfilling and heavy at the same time.
Because with that passion comes a sense of responsibility. You want your community to thrive. You want people to have access to expression and belonging and even though you’re driven by love for the arts, it doesn’t mean it’s easy. There are long nights, tight budgets, limited resources, and moments where you feel like you’re pushing a boulder uphill.
But then someone tells you that a rehearsal changed their confidence, a piece of artwork made them feel seen or a young performer found their place onstage and suddenly the ripple makes sense. The hard mahi turns into something meaningful.
But the spark doesn’t always stay bright. Burnout is a word I’m hearing everywhere lately, especially in the arts and community sectors. I see it in people who are constantly creating opportunities, carrying out whole projects, pushing for change and giving their talent and energy to everyone around them.
They believe so deeply in what they’re doing, and yet they’re the ones who end up exhausted. And when burnout comes from the very thing that once gave you joy, it can make you wonder where the spark has gone.
I’m learning that reigniting it doesn’t usually happen by pushing harder. It comes from slowing down and coming back to a simple reason of remembering why you do what you love. Returning to the small, playful acts that made creativity feel safe in the first place.
Singing to yourself while on a walk. Doodling for no reason. Making something no one will ever see. Sitting in the audience enjoying a show instead of being part of it. Letting yourself create just for you. The spark never fully goes away, it just goes quiet until we are ready to fan it again.
As part of my job here at Creative Waikato and through my roles in the performing arts community, I get to witness these sparks and ripples every day. From the bold rumblings of a new project, the tired middles of planning or workshopping, the community-building, the joy.
It reminds me that supporting creatives isn’t just about helping them produce work. It’s about recognising the hard work behind holding up communities and celebrating the small wins that keep them going with their own creative journeys to fuel them further.
Written by Hannah Doherty, Creative Waikato team member