I like to run. It keeps me fit and clears my head. One of my regular routes takes me up a rocky track known locally as the Angel’s Staircase. And at the top of the Staircase is a pond. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about this pond halfway up a Welsh hillside. A fence topped with barbed wire runs along one side and tiny islands of reeds huddle round the edge. In the depths of summer there’s no pond at all, just cracked mud bordered by bracken.

Yet for some reason I still don’t really understand, I began to photograph the pond whenever I ran past it. A single shot taken from the same position, between two trees. And because I run past this pond a lot, at different times of day and at different times of year, I’ve accumulated hundreds of images of it.

Recently I decided to sequence the photos in chronological order across a year. You can see how the light, colours, flora and even the surface of the water change. Each photograph is the same but different.

So why am I telling you about my pictures of a pond?

Well, it’s a good example of the kind of simple, regular, easy to achieve creative practice that I believe can help you forge a better connection with your creative self, and maybe even get you unstuck from a period of creative block.

Often there’s a big creative project we’re either working on or hoping to begin. It’s the sole repository of our creative energy and the source of our ambitions and goals for the future. That’s a lot of pressure. And pressure and creativity aren’t always the best of friends.

Having a side project that’s easy to complete, that you have no intention of sharing with the world, that you can make progress with every day without even trying too hard, can be a really healthy thing for your creative soul. It’s tempting to forego this kind of thing when you’re working on your magnum opus. Yet your masterpiece is more likely to arrive if you have a creative pressure valve like a daily project.

Another benefit that comes from me photographing the pond is that to take the picture I must slow down, stop and look. This isn’t just good for my mental health, it’s a way of being in the world that invites inspiration. Modern life urges us to speed up and scroll more, neither of which is helpful when it comes to having ideas. Taking the time to pay attention gives you the best chance of noticing something that no one else has yet seen. And that’s a great place to begin.

Now, I’m not suggesting you start running or photographing ponds. But maybe there’s a simple creative act you could complete most days. It could be photography, could be writing – I’m a fan of Julia Cameron’s ‘morning pages’ – maybe drawing, or something else. Rob Walker’s excellent book ‘The Art of Noticing’ is full of ideas. But whatever it is, do it do it daily and see where it takes you.

Right, I’m off for a run.