Because Creativity - Improvising wonder, with Nico Sakaki

"Let me show you how alive I am."

Dear Creatives,

Welcome to another Because Creativity guest letter, where we pause from life’s endless demands for a short interlude, to dwell on creativity, imagination, and beauty. For joy alone.

Today’s guest letter is a thoughtful and personal reflection from

Nico Sakaki

, a writer, artist, and self-described recovering perfectionist. Nico’s creative practice is their anchor, a way to connect with others, quiet their mind, and find their way home when life feels overwhelming.

In their guest letter, Nico shares their rediscovery of dance as a form of expression, one that’s both deeply personal and magical. Through vulnerability, curiosity, and the joy of movement, they remind us how creativity can reconnect us with ourselves in the most meaningful ways.

Nico, with their cat 🐾

It’s funny. Dance has been a part of my creative practice for as long as I can remember, but I never realized that it was—not until this past year.

From the ages of three to seventeen I took ballet lessons, eventually adding in some other styles—tap, jazz, contemporary. It makes sense that my attention was always drawn to the physicality, the athleticism of it—learning the choreography, striving to get the technique just right, agonizing over my lack of flexibility. I didn’t exactly see it as creative. My teachers occasionally had us do some improvisation, but I always dreaded those classes. I was too self-conscious. Too many mirrors. Too much skin showing. Too much body hair. Too much in my head.

The only time I didn’t hate improv was in my bedroom. Listening to music on my ipod shuffle, a soundtrack to whatever story I was creating inside my mind as I paced and spun around the room, imagining that my body could do the same kinds of movement as my favourite dancers, the ones I watched on stage who seemed to be bound by different laws of physics. My husband has said that I literally look spellbound when we’ve gone to see dance shows. Like I’m watching magic take place.

I am.

I’ve been trying to introduce dance back into my life, removing any expectations or past baggage that I have associated with it. Sometime when the anxiety starts to kick in after sharing my art online, I’ll turn on a song and start to improvise. Sometimes it’s the first thing I do after I wake up, a way to ease my body into the day.

Sometimes the movement still feels a bit like pulling teeth—the way writing or painting can also feel. I still struggle to really let go when it comes to dancing. One resource that has helped me a lot is Cody Cook-Parrott’s virtual improv dance class: “Cultivating a Solo Practice.” They talk about cultivating a certain language when it comes to improvisation—thinking in shapes and forms rather than steps. What shapes can I make with my body? What levels can I play with? Slow versus fast, smooth versus sharp movement, repetition, isolation, etc. I’m slowly learning that new language for myself.

I thought about trying to film myself to have something visual to go along with this guest post, pushing myself to share just a few seconds of dancing. But maybe, it’s okay that this is just for me. A reminder that this also gets to be art. That it holds value even if no one but me ever witnesses it. (So instead, here are some old dance photos of mini Nico—a reminder for when I start to feel strung out, to stay grounded in that child-like sense of wonder.)

After all—what could be more magical than making something out of nothing?

Letting the body birth something into existence

Following the desire to say to the universe—

Here. Let me show you how alive I am.

Mini Nico

As Nico so beautifully illustrates, creativity doesn’t have to be about perfection, public recognition, or even being seen by others. It’s about the act of making, the subtle wonder of bringing something into existence simply because it feels right. Creativity is a conversation with ourselves, a way to process, to connect, to breathe life into thoughts and feelings that might otherwise go unspoken.

Thank you, Nico, for sharing your journey with us and reminding us of the quiet magic and deep value in creating just for ourselves.

If you’d like to explore more of Nico’s writing and art, you can follow them on their Substack, Art Haven. It’s a cosy, welcoming space filled with pillows, blankets, and inspiration, where you’re invited to show up as you are and make art. Through their thoughtful reflections, Nico delves into the healing power of creativity, the courage to embrace imperfection, and the joy of rediscovering a love for writing and painting.

Whether it’s through dance, writing, painting, or another form of expression, the value of what we create isn’t determined by an audience or external validation. It’s found in the joy, growth, and meaning we uncover within the process. The art we make for ourselves is no less real, no less worthy, and no less magical than the art we share with the world.

So, as you return to your own creative practice, I hope you carry Nico’s words with you as a gentle reminder: this, too, gets to be art. It matters, not because others see it, but because you do. It holds value simply because it exists, because you brought it into being.

Let this be your invitation to create with curiosity, to embrace the moments that are yours alone, and to rediscover the wonder in simply showing yourself how alive you are.

With wishes for endless inspiration,