Eleni Danesi_Performing Somatic Architecture, Vienna 2023, photo by Denise Ackerl
Reading Marina Vishmidt’s article From Speculation to Infrastructure: Material and Method in the Politics of Contemporary Art brought up many resonances with my own journey as an artist and embodiment guide. In her analysis, she points out how under neoliberalism, creativity has been absorbed into the economy as abstract labour. Creativity is no longer perceived as a free act of expression, but as a skill to be measured, qualified, and sold — not so different from any other form of labour.
This reflection hits very close to my own experience.
As an artist who was not managing to live directly from my art, I became painfully aware of the difficulty of making a living through creative practice. And maybe that was the problem all along: the pressure of having to make money was suffocating my creativity, and I often could not assign a price to my work. Instead of feeling free, I felt blocked. At the same time, I grew resentful toward the voices promoting “creativity” as the great future skill — a qualification you could get certified for, in exchange for money, by yet another organization. Initially, I thought I was resentful of the fact that others make money and I wasn't, but soon I came to the realization that not only is creativity "SOLD" but it is also taught by the least creative people. And this is not to say that people can't be creative in their own way, I fully support this, but more often than not, I realized that certifications were not about "authentic creativity" but about another list of modules that one needs to follow to 'become creative' and then add this skill to the resume.
I saw this clearly with IKIGAI, the Japanese philosophy of a fulfilled life. I first encountered IKIGAI eight years ago and loved its holistic vision: a schema connecting what you love, what you are good at, what the world needs, and what you can be paid for. It showed me that fulfilment comes from weaving together all these aspects, not just pursuing one in isolation. I discovered the well-known diagram, which is a visualized reflection pathway that doesn't have a beginning or an end; it's a process of becoming and getting closer to our own truth through reflection, practice, trials, and interactions with the world and our inner self. But soon enough, European mindsets of extractivism and profitability turned IKIGAI into a certification — not even originating from Japan, but sold by European companies: “Become a certified IKIGAI coach.”
That was the moment I began to notice the paradox of calling myself a Creativity Coach. To be honest, I had already fallen into this trap. I was desperately trying to find a way to fit in, to offer my knowledge as an artist in exchange for money, so I could make a living from what I loved doing anyway. My reasoning was: “I am a creative person with experience in arts and architecture, so let me call myself a Creativity Coach.” But when I did, I felt like an impostor — because I thought I didn’t have the certificate, and how could I guide others if I wasn’t formally qualified? This paradox we create ourselves keeps us trapped in the economy of external validation, even when this comes from sources that only capitalize on any human activity and sell it as a ticket to moving further, walking the career ladder, and being profitable.
The more I sat with these doubts, the more I realized how strange all of this sounded. My curiosity about creativity led me to a deeper insight coming from my own experiences and the lifestyle I had chosen: creativity is not a skill — it is a state of being. A human state of growing, of becoming, of responding to life. Every person is a creator. It's not something we learn, it is something we are but we came to believe we don't have it as a skill.
Science and the fields of neuroaesthetics are quite clear about the benefits of engaging with art — whether as makers or as participants. Personally, I believe that producing ourselves — expressing, shaping, creating — is even more beneficial than mere exposure. It stimulates the senses, keeps the body-mind active, and nurtures resilience. This is why I started objecting to an economy that doesn’t just “sell creativity programs,” but sells programs that connect creativity directly to productivity at work.
In my workshops, I don’t teach creativity. I offer a space where you can be creative. A space where you can experiment, play, and connect without judgment or expectation. A space where collective becoming is the only “goal,” and where human and more-than-human connections can emerge naturally. Yes, these practices will likely make you more productive, but that’s not the purpose. The purpose is to feel alive, to connect, to rewire, to share, to create for life itself — not only for labour and capital.
To call it “the future skill” only reveals how capitalism has robbed us of time, presence, and the right to claim our creativity.
This is why I get upset when I hear that creativity is the future skill. Creativity has always been there. Our ancestors were creators. To call it “the future skill” only reveals how capitalism has robbed us of time, presence, and the right to claim our creativity. Those who say it now is the future skill are probably those who first lost it — and while it is good, they are trying to reclaim it, the risk is that creativity once again becomes commodified. Something to be purchased, certified, or “qualified” for.
...creativity is not about fitting into a market niche but about nurturing embodied awareness.
For me, the turning point came when I decided to open up my BODYMIND Architecture methodology to the public. After years of feeling exhausted by business advice, confused by trends, and disconnected from the deeper purpose of my work, I stopped and asked: what is it I disagree with, and why? What have I learnt from the years I have been actively experimenting with artistic practices, and what has been the impact on myself and the ways I engage with the world? My experiences showed me that creativity is not about fitting into a market niche but about nurturing embodied awareness. BODYMIND Architecture is not a creativity course. It is a methodology of creative practices that expand our awareness of the world through embodied reflection and somatic perception.
Every thought is linked to an emotion and a sensation, and this — for me — is the pathway to discover where our creativity takes us. I do use future thinking and speculation, but not as a skill of labour. For me, imagination is a trained inner state of being. Creativity grows stronger through practice, but practice here means something different: it is time invested in listening to ourselves, to our thoughts, our unmet needs, and our dreams. It means giving these inner voices space and patience to grow. It means that by listening to my voices and the voices of others, we can imagine first and foremost new ecologies of being that will then have an impact on the new ecologies of working, not the other way around.
Every step is taken in the present moment, and each step slowly builds the path forward. The real skills we need — flexibility, novelty, and emotional awareness — are not future skills but present ones. They support our creative flow here and now. Work can benefit from this, of course, but it should never be allowed to exploit it.
Thank you for reading my thoughts
Eleni Danesi
In case you would like to know more about my practice, the BODYMIND Architecture, you can follow me on LinkedIn, on Instagram @bodymind_architect & @multiscapeslab, and find more articles and project announcements through my website: https://www.elenidanesi.com/
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