Nights are a battleground between restless thoughts and the quest for sleep – a chaotic dance, where creativity often takes the lead.
My name’s Gary and I’m an insomniac. (Ironically, I’m not writing this at 1am.)
I was born with an overactive mind. It’s not just a work thing; it’s a life thing.
It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.
I’ve always been a night owl. When the world went quiet at night, that was my time to think, draw, organise, watch films (why do the best ones always come on at 11.55pm?). When everyone else went to sleep, my brain woke up.
I get insomnia when I can’t crack a problem, before a big night out, after a big night out, before a holiday, during a pitch, when something is worrying me, if there’s a confrontation looming, if I’m overthinking something somebody said… you get the picture.
Most of my insomnia is caused by my brain becoming more active after processing the previous 16 hours.
Work finished, kids fed, dog walked, TV watched, teeth brushed, brain switches ON. When you’re trained to think of ideas all day, it’s hard to switch OFF.
Most of all, it’s down to the curse of "nighttime creativity".
Worse than demonic possession and incredibly common in our game.
I’ve tried everything to cure it. Whale sounds, rain sounds, whales singing in the rain sounds. Sleep aids, eye masks and ear buds.
Sleeping in another room with fresh blankets, sleeping with the dog in dirty blankets, smelly meadows on my pillow.
You name it, I’ve tried it.
Each time the outcome is the same – my brain wakes me up in the small hours, taps me on the head and says: "Hey. I’ve just had a thought."
Shut up, brain!
As I’ve got older, I’ve realised that, for me, there are two types of insomnia.
"Destructive" insomnia: an anxious evil spiral of doom full of "what ifs" and "I’m a fraud"; a dark vortex of swirling shit.
"Productive" insomnia: where my nighttime brain helps me get shit done.
The second one is much more interesting.
After years of trying to conquer it, I woke up to the possible benefits of it.
If I’m going to be a corpse in work the next day, I might as well do something more positive than ride the sleepless spiral of despair.
I decided to try to embrace my insomnia, make use of the restless gremlin in my head (turns out you can feed it after midnight) and turn the extra time it gave me into a secret weapon.
I’d read (while I was lying awake) that some great artists and writers had found heightened creativity in their sleepless nights and gone on to produce great works.
So maybe, it could also work for a not-as-great art director. Next time I couldn’t sleep, I got up and I got to work.
Suddenly, I had my own secret time to think.
In the quietest part of the night, I could sneak up on life problems, I could get a massive head start on creative briefs, I could think, draw or write for an intense hour and then maybe even go back to sleep.
I found that a pitch-black room is more inspiring than a huge white empty piece of paper (still at the side of the bed ready with a pen).
Getting that light-bulb moment was much brighter in the dark. And my brain felt different, calmer but more creative.
Here’s a science bit…
Apparently as we enter nighttime, darkness has a big effect on our whole bodies, the shape of our brain changes, hormones shift, our brain state and thoughts are altered. We experience more emotional highs and lows.
A tired brain is forced to process things differently and will therefore throw up wilder ideas (I read all that at night too).
All of this might explain why I felt that there’s a different me after midnight. Or I’m a werewolf. Now there’s a curse not quite as bad as being a creative.
The point is, I realised that a certain amount of insomnia could be useful. And that nighttime wasn’t a time to dread but could be a weird, wonderful other world to exist in, providing that the insomnia wasn’t really prolonged of course.
I’m certainly not advocating insomnia, but now when I’m tossing and turning, I just roll with it. I’ve learned to be patient, get up and do something productive.
Working, creating, watching – hell, even exercising (bit weird).
Creativity can dominate your life; you never know when you’re going to have that idea. If you’re anything like me, you never know when you’re going to have a good night’s sleep either. So the two can sort of be happy bedfellows.
PS I recommend a well-known supermarket brand of sleep aid tablets. Much better than whale music and dirty dog blankets.
Gary Fawcett - Executive Creative Director
As featured in Campaign