TOKiMONSTA's recent interview in Creative Independent offers valuable perspective on artistic practice, particularly her decision to pause a tour to care for a dying friend. Her choice highlights an essential truth: when faced with difficult decisions, prioritising human connection over career momentum can be necessary, even when professionally risky.
The Pragmatics of Pausing
In an industry that values constant visibility, choosing to step back requires careful consideration. Working across different contexts both on my own work and as a jobbing actor, I know I need to get better at saying no to the overlaps and blocking out structured breaks. It will no doubt benefit my creative work.
When I had to pause plans for DUAL دوگانه in 2020 following its success at Vault Festival that year, there were legitimate concerns about maintaining audience engagement and momentum. The work eventually found its audience because although it wasn't my decision at the time, being forced to take the time to digest and re-imagine it meant that when it did eventually come back, it had more rigour and was right for that moment.
Creative Rhythms
TOKiMONSTA’s motto that "Whenever creativity hits, you've got to answer the phone" rings true (see what I did there?). I really should make use of all those rambling voice notes on my phone and scribbles on receipts when struck by inspiration at the most inconvenient times.
Many artists, myself included, work in patterns that rarely conform to traditional schedules. Projects often develop in concentrated bursts across unusual hours, drawing from multiple disciplines and unexpected sources. Recognising and working with these natural creative rhythms typically yields stronger results than forcing creativity into conventional timeframes. And therein lies the hustle and the tussle - I know this to be true, but it's not always up to me, and I have rent to pay!
Distinctive Approaches
"It's good to be weird and lean into your weirdness," - Unconventional approaches can become central to artistic expression over time. What might initially seem unusual often creates distinctive, memorable work that connects precisely because it steps outside familiar categories. I'm proud of those moments when audience members tell me that they "didn't know theatre could be that" and want to see more like it.
For artists and producers, the key is recognising that value doesn't always correlate with constant visibility. Strategic pauses – whether for personal commitments, caring responsibilities, or creative development – can strengthen both the work and the artist's sustainability.
What aspects of your creative practice might benefit from a different approach? How might structured breaks actually advance your projects? Have you ever made the decision to stop for a moment even though it felt like a risk?
This post was inspired by TOKiMONSTA's interview about her album 'Eternal Revieve'.