Culture is at the crux of creativity. Yet all too often as an industry, culture is not treated as a tangible input. If creativity is a muscle, then you need to exercise that muscle every day. With that in mind, BITE is asking industry leaders to share the experiences which have positively impacted their creative outlook and how they have influenced their work. IMA-Home’s Leah Groom shares how trying new things takes bravery.

I’ve always processed my thoughts and feelings by writing them down. I’ve got an archive of half-filled journals stretching back to my teen years. But I’ve never taken those words and tried to turn them into something tangible. I didn’t think I had the authority to. Me? I’m not a writer. Sure, I compile copy for social and blogs and press releases every day, but I didn’t study English beyond GCSE. I don’t know the rules.

So, it was to my great surprise a couple of Wednesdays ago, when I found myself standing up in front of a room full of strangers, about to perform my first spoken word piece.

And guess what? I relished it. Every terrifying, cathartic second. What a revelation.

By standing up there and performing (and enjoying it), I added another piece to the puzzle of what makes me, me. Curiosity is at the core of creativity, so I try to stay curious about all the different versions of myself out there.

Other new things I’ve dabbled in over the past year include punch needle, wreath-making, gong baths, life drawing, lino printing, collage, cold water swimming (not technically a ‘creative’ activity, but I definitely got creative with my choice of expletives in the 12C water).

I reckon most people have a ‘them’ that they’ve been too scared to tap into. Because trying new things - especially as an adult - is nerve-wracking stuff. It requires vulnerability. And being okay with not being perfect at it to start with. Maybe even failing at it. But in my experience regret is far worse than embarrassment. So, I’m a big advocate of leaving your ego at the door and giving it a go.

As for how I got to this particular door (the local community centre, oh the glamour), it happened in a very mundane way. I saw an Instagram post advertising the event. Thought “Eh, why not?”. And bought a ticket. It wasn’t anything more profound than that. No big epiphany, no sign from the universe telling me I’ve found my calling. But each time I invite a new experience into my life, I feel like my horizons expand. Again, not in some big profound way. Just a little bit.

A happy side effect of getting involved with these different communities is that I meet people I likely would never have found otherwise. Since reciting my poem, I’ve been to two other spoken word nights and I’ve connected with people like Teddy, a lawyer-come-sonneteer whose serious job contrasts with his beautiful stanzas. Janet, a very sweary, passionate feminist who makes me guffaw. Elliot, a winner of the Roundhouse Poetry Slam whose voice is like velvet. Allie, a creative writing student who totally transforms with every piece she performs.

As Thomas Dreier said: “The World is a great mirror. It reflects back to you what you are.” So, the more experiences and people that are being reflected back at me, the more sources of inspiration I have to pull from. And the stronger my creative outlook gets.