Creativity needs mindfulness and play. Our pets teach us both!

Owning a pet is a great reminder that, for all our high-minded ideals and ambitions, we’re just another link in the food chain. We’re part of an ecosystem where every life counts—even the lives of animals that just want to chew our shoes or nap on our keyboard. Pets, especially our cute but predatory cats and dogs, show us that life is as much about survival as it is about companionship. They hunt, they consume, and they don’t apologise for it. And, truthfully, neither should we. Living and thriving—whether as a human or as an artist—requires a certain acceptance of our role in this ecosystem. We eat, we consume, we create. The trick is to do so mindfully.

What is good about having a pet?

As an artist, I find my pets are some of the best teachers in this department. They’re masters of living in the moment. They don’t dwell on yesterday’s missed possum or tomorrow’s next meal; they’re focused on the now. And that’s something every creative needs to remember. We can get so bogged down in regrets over projects that didn’t go to plan or anxieties about future work that we forget to appreciate what’s in front of us. Pets bring us back to that present, to that immediate moment of creativity that often sparks the best work.

Another invaluable lesson pets teach is the importance of play. My dog, for example, can turn a simple ball game into an epic chase. In their world, everything has potential for fun or exploration. It’s easy, especially as a working artist, to start seeing creativity as a grind. But watching a pet reminds me that creating art is inherently playful and a bit silly. It’s about experimentation, about letting loose, and about approaching each project with the excitement of a dog finally bursting that ball.

Allowing myself to be silly and playful isn’t just refreshing—it’s essential. Creativity thrives when we’re relaxed enough to make mistakes, to look a little foolish, to try something wildly out of the box. My pet doesn’t care if she trips over her own legs mid-chase; she just keeps going. That’s the kind of energy we need to bring to our art.

Having a pet is also a reminder of our responsibility to other creatures. Just as I try to be mindful about the materials I use in my art, I’m reminded of the larger responsibility I have within this ecosystem. Every choice I make—whether in consumption or creation—affects the world around me. Our pets don’t feel guilt about what they consume, but they’re respectful creatures in their own way. They live in harmony with their needs and instincts. For me, that translates to making conscious choices in my art that respect both my own creative process and the impact it may have on others.

There’s the undeniable bond we form with our pets. They’re our companions, our guides, and, in many ways, our muses. In my visual dream journal, I’ve captured this in an image titled Guide Dog—a surreal, dreamlike moment where my dog, Chocky, appears to be leading me into another realm. I like to think that pets guide us in ways we don’t fully understand, nudging us towards a more balanced, more mindful way of living. In art, that companionship fuels a connection to our own instincts and passions.

Having a pet isn’t just about having someone to curl up with on the couch. It’s about living alongside another creature who teaches us—intentionally or not—what it means to thrive. To live mindfully, to play without restraint, to respect our place in the world, and to create with an open, present heart. Living with a “killer” predator might seem dramatic, but in their wildness, we find a reflection of our own instincts as creators. So, here’s to our pets, our playful predators, and our wisest teachers in art and life.