Creativity With Constraints: Inspiration or Frugality from Growing Up with Ten Siblings

Jennifer Jones
Jan 18
3 min read

People often ask what inspires a particular painting.

They are usually expecting something poetic. A dream. A dramatic sunset. A meaningful walk on the beach.

The truth is far less glamorous.

Inspiration might be a word I overheard, a fleeting image, a documentary I half watched while doing something else

, or a commercial that caught me at a weak moment. It does not knock politely or announce its arrival. It simply wanders in, makes itself comfortable, and refuses to leave.

And sometimes, brace yourself, inspiration is practical.

The Frugal Beginnings

I grew up with ten siblings. That single sentence explains a lot.

In a household that large, wastefulness was not frowned upon. It was practically a character flaw. Everything had a second life. Then a third. Possibly a fourth. If something was thrown away, it was only after a lengthy internal debate and at least one sibling saying, Wait, I can use that.

Frugality was not a choice. It was a survival skill. One that lodged itself firmly into my brain and followed me into adulthood, much to Matt’s occasional horror.

When I first started painting, I treated paint like it was rationed. I carefully squeezed out the smallest amount possible onto my plate, attempting to calculate exactly how much I would need. No more. No less.

This makes Gary, my art instructor, slightly insane.

There is no need to be so stingy with the paints, he would say.

But there was a need. A very real and deeply ingrained one. The idea of wasting paint felt morally questionable. Possibly criminal.

The Bonus Paintings

Eventually, I found a solution. One that satisfied both my creative spirit and my inner child who still believes leftovers are sacred.

Enter bonus paintings.

These days, I am usually working on two or three canvases at once. Part of this is artistic momentum. The other part is my refusal to throw away perfectly usable acrylic paint. Unlike watercolors, acrylics do not wait patiently for later use. Once they are on the plate, the clock is ticking.

Tossing a plate full of wet paint is simply not an option.

So, when I finish the main painting of the moment, I pivot. Flowers appear. Clouds drift in. Fish swim onto the canvas. Whatever feels right gets painted with whatever colors remain.

These bonus paintings are built entirely from leftovers, and somehow, they often become the most playful, colorful, and joyful pieces I make. They exist solely because I could not bring myself to waste paint.

It turns out frugality has excellent taste.

Creativity With Constraints

Inspiration does not always arrive as a romantic burst of genius. Sometimes it shows up as blobs of leftover paint and a lifelong habit formed in a house where nothing ever went to waste.

But creativity does not shrink under constraints. Sometimes it thrives because of them.

If you have ever felt limited by time, materials, space, or circumstance, consider this your permission slip. Use what you have. Start where you are. Let the leftovers lead the way.

Some of the best ideas are hiding in what you almost threw away.

Creativity does not always need more. Sometimes it just needs you to stop wasting what is already there.