Creative Hours
An ode to the times of day that leave us creatively happy, nourished, and slow.
The passing car horns and drone of the air conditioner weren’t enough to interrupt my focus. But when the clock struck 5:12 p.m., I looked up from my dining room table to discover golden light pouring in through the windows. To my left, crisp orange wine filled a small glass. To my right, a deliciously inky pen sat at the ready. And, directly in front of me, a journal that’s taken years to complete—and with good reason. Good things take good time.
The afternoon isn’t always the most “productive” period, but it returns me to a more joyous and connected place creatively. As Etel Adnan writes in Seasons, “In a late afternoon, nothing moves, save one’s heart.” While the heartbeat of summer is often rooted in movement, this particular season has been one of the fastest—and strangest—in recent years. I’ve been working more, traveling less, and staying very close to home.
My apartment is situated on a quiet street that leads to a bustling avenue filled with shops and restaurants. As late afternoon rolls around, a certain glow descends on the neighborhood, and an after-work soundtrack permeates the streets. Living here is both a gift to my mental health and a source of tension for my creativity. So when a friend recently asked if I’ve ever considered applying for residencies or retreats, I sighed. Long story short: I’d love to (it’s something I didn’t think to do while writing Slowing), but at this point, it’s more feasible to reimagine time rather than space—expanding the framework for my creative hours, noticing how they make me feel, and being open to what I make just as much as what I consume.
Whether it’s early morning or the quiet of the night, in the company of others or proud solitude, there’s something to be said for honoring the periods that slow us down and nourish us creatively. So, consider this letter my attempt to explore and understand (what I refer to as) creative happy hours—and how we cultivate them, regardless of time, space, and medium.
A Creative Happy Hour Agenda
Here’s a look at how I’ve been spending my creative happy hours (and a potential starting point for your own).
Make a mood board
2-3 p.m.
Fostering intentional creativity is a recurring theme in Slowing, and as I wrote in one of my essays in the book, there’s nothing like putting pin to paper, or in this case, cork. I’ve found mood boarding to be an ideal creative happy hour ritual and exercise in presence, attention, and curation. What’s more eye-opening than seeing certain themes or ideas visualized?
Try a different medium
3-4 p.m.
Growing up, my favorite ballet class was held from 3 to 5 PM. I recently signed up for my first class in over a decade, but in the spirit of slowness (and to prevent injury), I’m gradually warming up to the intensity of a full class by doing at-home ballet barres. Needless to say, movement does wonders for my life, and taking a couple of hours to try something else always moves my creativity in unexpected ways. (As the famous saying goes, endorphins make you happy.)
Set an inspiring scene
5-6 p.m.
Curating an environment that fosters creativity without distraction is a delicate balance. For me, that almost always includes books, design, savory snacks, and light. Yet this is where quality over quantity comes into play—it’s about having just enough of these details to inspire inner calm, rather than adding to external chaos.
Creative Toolkit
From books to ballet slippers, here are a few of my latest creative happy hour essentials that might inspire your own toolkit.
BjornQorn Classic (12-pack) - Bloch Ladies Performa Stretch Canvas Ballet Shoes - Catbird Souvenir Matches - D.S. & Durga Big Sur After Rain candle - Ferm Ripple Wine Glasses (Set of 2) - Flamingo Estate Night Blooming Jasmine & Damask Rose Candle - Ghia Ginger can - Girlfriend Collective leggings - Girl Friday Modern Push Pins - Maria Cabrera mug - Moleskine Classic Notebook - Papier Bright Ideas Mini Highlighters - Papier Wiggle Top Ballpoint Pen - U-Brands Natural Cork Bulletin Boards with Birch Frame - Slowing by yours truly - The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad (featuring an essay and prompt by yours truly!)
I also asked a few of the most creative women living and working today to share their thoughts on the connection between time and creativity, how they define their own creative happy hours, and what ingredients make these periods so nourishing for each of them. Read on for a week’s worth of ideas—and a lifetime of inspiration.
Founder of Ghia ◾ Creator of Night Shade
How do you define a creative happy hour?
A creative happy hour, for me, is that quiet, golden part of the day when everything just clicks. It's usually early morning when the light is crisp, the kitchen smells of freshly brewed coffee, and I haven't yet let the noise of the day in. Ideas feel playful and unpolished in the best way—like they haven't been overthought yet. It's when I trust my gut the most before the inbox and calendar try to take over.
What time of day do you feel the most creatively happy, nourished, or slow?
Mornings, always. I try to keep them as open as possible for movement, in-person meetings, or just uninterrupted work time because it’s when I feel the most clear and creatively alive. If I overload a morning with back-to-back meetings, the whole day feels rushed—I lose that spacious, grounded rhythm I rely on to feel good and make good things.
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
I'm definitely alone with a cup of coffee; I love my Peter Shire mugs. Something simple to snack on: olives, almonds, maybe a little fruit. I’m either at home with the windows open or at the office with the team, ideas bouncing around casually. My notebook and laptop are always with me, ready for quick thoughts or longer stretches of focused work. My notebook is just filled with daily scribbles, a couple of pages per day. There’s usually a book or two nearby for a visual reset, and a few things hanging in my wallet. (Today, for instance, it's the tickets from the Funicular in Capri; they're so pretty I can't seem to part ways with them.) It’s unstructured but intentional, and that’s when I feel most open, most curious.
What projects are you working on during this time?
I need this setup to get in the flow of my Substack or try planning the months ahead. At Ghia, we’re working on a new spritz that will launch later this year—something we’ve been thoughtfully shaping to complement our current lineup. It’s been such a fun, creative challenge, and we’re already dreaming up a few unexpected ways to bring it to life. I can’t wait to share more soon.
Do you have any advice for those looking to cultivate their own creative happy hour routine or ritual?
Notice when you feel most inspired and protect that time as best as you can! Those moments of true creativity seem to be rare these days, especially when we're constantly connected to our phones and computers, so be extra guarded with whatever creative time you can get. Your texts can wait! I also really believe that boredom is the gateway to creativity—I can't remember the last time I was bored, but empty time means room for new things!
Founder and Creative Director of Loeffler Randall ◾ Creator of Jessie Loves
How do you define a creative happy hour?
Those times when I am “in the zone.” It’s when I’m focused on a craft or a knitting pattern and everything else falls away, and my mind goes still. There isn’t pressure on me, and I’m purely being creative.
What time of day do you feel the most creatively happy, nourished, or slow?
I guess the commute is a big one for me because I often knit during my commute. It’s 45 minutes at the start and end of my day when I can zone out. I often miss my stop!
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
One really fulfilling, creative happy hour element of my life is my craft club. We meet once a month, and each person takes turns hosting and teaching a craft. We always leave those nights so inspired, and we always end up saying it’s our favorite social event we attend. I always feel so calm and happy being with my friends and making things together.
What projects are you working on during this time?
We’ve done all kinds of things: basket weaving, natural dyeing, painting, lei making. It’s so nice to do a social thing with friends that doesn’t revolve around alcohol.
Do you have any advice for those looking to cultivate their own creative happy hour routine or ritual?
On my Substack, I wrote about how to start your own craft club, but generally speaking, find something that interests you and get started. Even taking a class helps. For my knitting, the impetus is usually someone I know having a baby, and then I start a new knitting pattern. I like to challenge myself with something I haven’t tried before.
Emma Leokadia Walkiewicz
Writer ◾ Creator of Girls on the Page
How do you define a creative happy hour?
It feels almost indescribable. Carson McCullers once asked, “Where does work come from? What chance, what small episode will start the chain of creation?” I think of those words: chance, chain of reaction. I’d define it as any span of time where you raise your palms to the ether, and something is handed back to you—something clicks, something that feels close to magic.
A creative happy hour can last days. Weeks. It doesn’t need to be a time of active “work”—it can be a blissful hour of reading or quiet observation. I’m in France right now, and last week we left the city and drove through the countryside. Just sitting in the passenger seat of the car felt productive. I was so inspired by the weather, the colors, the season, writing down descriptions and lines as they came to mind, knowing that eventually, I’ll find a place for them, even if they just live in my notebook or phone for a while.
I think a creative happy hour must be when you break or surface from whatever you’re doing and there’s a moment of acknowledgment, a simple ahh of recognition, maybe even a nod of gratitude. I think of how all the conditions must be just so for the surfer. I imagine the elation they must feel as they catch a good wave and know it’s a good wave. When the creative happy hour arrives, I follow it for as long as it lasts. It’s like falling under a spell. Something is calling to you, and you must answer.
What time of day do you feel the most creatively happy, nourished, or slow?
I was never really a morning person, but in recent years I’ve come to love the early hours. There is something in the morning light that feels like creative fuel. I’m currently reading Rhine Journey by Ann Schlee, and in it, the main character says, “Light has a clarity in the early morning which it loses during the day.”
I don’t work well or feel inspired under gloomy conditions. The quality of light during different periods of the day seems to activate particular pockets of inspiration. It doesn’t matter where I am or how I’m feeling: if the sun is coming through the window, the channel is open. At the end of the day, I’m adamant that we don’t turn the lights on until the very last of the light has left the sky. Katherine Mansfield writes, “The late evening is the time of times.” I find myself reaching for the sunlight almost desperately, holding on until it slips away—I’ll read until the lines on the page blur into dark smudges.
I’m writing to you from my sister’s apartment in Marseille. It’s twenty after five and the sun is streaming through the curtains from above the Mediterranean—this is the time of day, the time of year, the conditions I long for. If it could forever be five o’clock on a sunny day in the summer, I’d be happy with that.
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
A cup of coffee, morning sunlight, and nothing on my plate aside from what I want to work on—that’s an ideal creative happy hour for me.
Also: A stack of books by my side. Having them near helps, almost as if I can hear them speaking. When I find myself drifting, I open to a random page and read a line. A recent pile included a 600-page volume of poetry by Louise Glück and a weathered copy of Margaret Atwood’s Selected Poems. Whether it’s a specific line or the language in general, a nudge from one of these books always sends me back on my way.
It's the same with flowers. May Sarton refers to them as silent presences. My local fruit market sells tulips all winter long; they buoy me through the bleak months. Otherwise, it’s whatever is in season—a sprig of lilac, lily of the valley from the garden, wildflowers from country ditches when I visit my mom. Earlier in June, I plucked a few blossoms from a black walnut tree and kept them within arm’s reach. I find that when I have flowers at hand, I’m regarding them, daydreaming, challenging myself to describe them in ways I haven’t read or heard before, and that helps bring me back when I start doomscrolling real estate listings or whatever else is pulling at my attention strings.
I like having some idea of what’s going on outside—the weather, the rhythms of traffic, so I enjoy working near an open window. If I listen to music, it’s ambient, no words. I’m constantly adding to a writing playlist, but usually I listen to the same hour-long song on repeat: it’s basically white noise, soothing enough that I don’t notice it. For what I’m writing, it puts me in a specific headspace that’s grounding. I need to be alone. I suppose there’s something to having no one see you, almost like you’re granted complete freedom to write anything. I’m bad about eating or drinking anything that isn’t coffee while at my desk. I wear what’s most comfortable: a t-shirt and shorts in the summer.
What projects are you working on during this time?
Around the beginning of the year, I started working on a new manuscript that was basically the complete opposite in tone from the novel I’ve completed—a bit more in line with what I write about on Substack. That free-fall feeling of beginning something new is so refreshing. I wanted to follow the current and write without editing as I went along, to put my fingers on the planchette and see what happened. I got pulled away in early spring—the year seems to be going by so fast—but am hoping to spend more time with it this summer.
I’ve been editing my other novel for so long that it feels good to be working on something light, a little more optimistic, and hopefully universal. I’ve been slowly querying agents for my completed novel, and am constantly working on Girls on the Page, whether that means reading novels or writing interview questions and newsletters. There’s no corner of my life that is not touched by literature. There is always a book to be read or an idea to follow. A favorite line from the poet Wisława Szymborska: “But time is short. I write.”
Do you have any advice for those looking to cultivate their own creative happy hour routine or ritual?
Acknowledge when you feel inspired, and take note of what those conditions consist of. Can you create them yourself, or is it as simple as merely showing up? Is there a specific place, a certain type of weather, a time of day that rouses your creative sensibilities? Surround yourself with words and images that inspire you, but keep in mind that so much of channeling creativity is about being awake and attuned to the beauty and debris and everything else that exists within the river of everyday life.
Creative Director ◾ Creator of À La Carte and Pasta Girlfriend
How do you define a creative happy hour?
My happiest creative happy hours are when I’ve hit a flow state of some sort with no distractions and nowhere to be. If I’ve cleared my schedule and blocked out some time for it, I can access a level of focus without the threat of being pinged by a Google Meet notification or a phone call. When hours go by and I’ve just been in something, whether I’m writing, designing, or planning for the future, I feel most creatively fulfilled.
What time of day do you feel the most creatively happy, nourished, or slow?
I’m straight-up not a morning person—I won’t get out of bed most mornings until I absolutely have to. It takes me a while to get in the headspace to be creatively productive, so I usually save admin work and meetings for that stretch of time between breakfast and lunch when I’m not quite operating at 100% yet. Around 1 p.m., I tend to hit my stride, and on a good day, I’ll stay in that headspace until around 6 p.m. I rarely work late—I’m pretty spent by the time the end of the day rolls around—so I guess the early evening usually signals the end of my creative practice each day.
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
Okay, so it’s early-to-mid-afternoon. I’m at my dining table working solo—at that time of day, the sun comes in through my dining room window, and there’s an orange tree just outside of it, so the room is really bright with dappled light. My dining table (which I really treat more like a desk, if I’m being honest) is almost always covered in things: art books I’m referencing, a mood board I’m working on, my Pantone books, my laptop, a bowl of Torres potato chips (the olive oil flavor), and a bottle of Pellegrino, and an iced latte, at the very least. I’m usually wearing something easy, like a pair of linen trousers and a cashmere sweater, with a claw clip in my hair (Undo Hairware makes the best one) to keep my bangs out of my face when I’m heads-down on something.
What projects are you working on during this time?
It runs the gamut! I might be working on client projects for my design studio, in which case I’m probably writing a concept statement or making a mood board for a presentation. More often than not, I’m writing something for my newsletter, À La Carte—I always tackle those in the afternoons. I might be doing a personal project, like the print magazine I self-published this summer or an event I’m hosting for Pasta Girlfriend.
Do you have any advice for those looking to cultivate their own creative happy hour routine or ritual?
Don’t force it. There are days I sit down at 1 p.m. to work on something, and the ideas just aren’t coming, and that’s okay. Even the best-laid creative happy hour plans can get derailed by something like an urgent email, a bad mood, or a worry you can’t shake. The key to being able to lock in during times when you are feeling creative is to structure your day so that you’re setting yourself up for success. If, like me, you’re at your best in the afternoon, try to get anything that could be a distraction out of the way in the mornings. Even if it feels like you’re only able to get into that flow state half of the time, that’s still several hours a week where you’re maximizing your creativity.
Writer ◾ Brand Strategist ◾ Creator of Small Pleasures
How do you define a creative happy hour?
A creative happy hour to me is a leisurely time of planning, writing, and researching. It’s carving out intentional time for your projects and making it feel special. Maybe it’s once a week, or a few times a week. Sometimes it’s at 9 a.m. on Monday, or 8 p.m. on a Sunday.
What time of day do you feel the most creatively happy, nourished, or slow?
I feel very energized when I wake up and love having long, slow mornings. I have a remote full-time job, so most of my writing happens either in the morning or in the evening—but sometimes I’ll jot down thoughts during the day.
For long writing sessions, it’s usually always in the late afternoon/early evening or on weekends. I don’t do deep writing every single evening, but I make sure to carve out at least one or two evenings for it. I’m subconsciously always thinking about writing 24/7, though.
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
It’s Thursday at 5 p.m., and I’ve wrapped up work stuff. I’m either making a quick dinner later, or I’ve decided it’s going to be a takeout night, but until then, I’ll be writing for the next couple of hours by myself. I’m drinking either a lemonade, sparkling water, a Phony Negroni, or a small Cann. I’ve got a stack of interior design books next to me and my journal and/or laptop. For snacks, I’m eating salt and vinegar chips, guacamole and chips, or berries.
Alternatively, it’s 9 p.m. on a Sunday. I just got back from my post-dinner ice cream run, and I’m spending the next couple of hours writing and planning out my week (my idea of a fun Sunday evening). I’m drinking lots of sparkling water because it’s summer and I’m parched. My partner is next to me, also reading, writing, or drawing.
What projects are you working on during this time?
I’m usually working on my newsletter or reading a book for research! Or I’m checking in on my weekly and quarterly tasks and goals. I also sometimes use this time to post on Substack, TikTok, and Instagram.
Do you have any advice for those looking to cultivate their own creative happy hour routine or ritual?
Experiment with what works for you. Some people like a more structured creative happy hour that’s at the same time and day. I’ve tried that before, and it doesn’t work for me. All I know is that as long as I get a creative happy hour at least a couple of times a week, I’m happy. In the long run, it’s made having a creative practice feel like a natural part of my life, without feeling forced. Not feeling pressure anymore has been so liberating.
And make it a whole thing. I love to have a variety of fun beverages and snacks in my fridge and pantry at all times. Get the nice glassware. Stock up on as much stationery as you want. Light the candle. Put on the playlist that helps you write. Your creative happy hour is your time, and it should feel inspiring.
Williams
Eames Office Archivist ◾ Art Historian ◾ Writer ◾ Creator of ABSOLUTEMENT
How do you define a creative happy hour?
It’s the time when I feel myself actively jumping into a mental and creative free spot. Whenever I want to start a project, I am usually good at flipping an imaginary switch in my mind and allowing myself to immediately have access to a productive stream of creative consciousness. A creative happy hour always involves some form of reading and writing. Sometimes, for me, it can include oil painting or photography.
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
I always joke that I’m a “solid afternoon person,” as mornings have always been impossible for me, and nights are when I spend time with my husband, take a walk to the ocean, or call my friends and family back in the US.
I work from home and finish at 5 p.m., so I usually switch to working on a creative project for a little bit—usually an hour—before checking out of my “office” for the night.
What are the ingredients of your creative happy hour?
In France, there’s a strict l’heure du goûter, a time in which the entire country pauses to have an afternoon snack. There’s a fight about whether it’s 4 p.m. or 5 p.m., but for me, it’s always precisely 4 p.m.! So, I eat my goûter and pump out my last hour of work. Then I’m free to switch gears. I always fill a large glass jar with water and sit back down at my desk to quickly see where my curiosities take me! My fingers usually and instinctively reach for a book close by. I also have a Notion list of all of the topics I want to explore next, and about 60 Substack drafts with ideas. I work solo, as I get distracted/excitable by other people. Wardrobe-wise, I’m in my normal clothing: a dress or skirt, usually vintage.
What projects are you working on during this time?
By day, I’m an art and design historian, which is fortunately tied directly to my personal interests. I focus most on writing—often for my Substack, Absolument, which revolves around art and design history. I also try to have a writing assignment or two in the works for others, whether they be Substack writers, brands, or museums like The Met.
Reading is a massive and necessary source of creative fuel for me. There’s so much to learn from fiction, but I mostly find myself sponging up non-fictional stories of artists, architects, and designers. It’s fascinating to place myself in their worlds for a moment in time, and to weave their story into the biographies of the people I’ve read about previously. I feel like I’m expanding my own social circles and worldliness at the same time!
I began oil painting a few years ago and have been slowly teaching myself about the many materials, techniques, and color mixing. Since oil is slow to dry, a painting can keep me busy for months or years!
Do you have any advice for those looking to cultivate their own creative happy hour routine or ritual?
Follow your curiosities passionately until they radiate out of you; then the ritual will find you naturally.
This was such a fun read! It also inspired me to light my beloved Flamingo Estate tomato candle during the day for a bit of a luxe creative moment. x
Adore this and the concept of creative happy hours!