• Hi, it’s Shoo here. The Certain Way is a book and philosophy born from a lifetime of making, thinking, and starting over. There are no promises – just the quiet discipline of focused thought and steady direction. It’s worked for me. It might work for you. Start here…

    (more…)
  • Hi — I’m Shoo Rayner. If you’ve found your way to this site, you may well be like me, a creative person trying to make sense of things. Maybe you’re burnt out, maybe you’re questioning what “success” even means anymore. Maybe you just want a clearer way forward.

    This site is a practical reimagining of The Science of Getting Rich — a 1910 book, written by Wallace Wattles. I’ve stripped out the archaic language and rewritten the core ideas for today: grounded in nature, creativity, and action.

    Wallace Wattles

    I don’t promise quick fixes or magical thinking. I’m here to share what I’ve learned about how ideas become form – and how certainty (not hustle) is the real engine of change.


    Where to begin


    What’s this really about?

    The Certain Way is a mindset. A method. A shift in how you relate to your work, your time, and your future.

    It’s not about manifesting stuff or choosing things from the catalogue of the universe.

    It’s about learning how to think with direction – and how to keep going when things get real.

    Start where you are now. Pick one thing. Read, watch, or just stop and think. You’re already on the path.

  • You may like to watch the video above:

    I came across this video and was so relieved to see someone else saying out loud what is going on in my head at the moment. Tom Bilyeu explains so much of what is going on in my head at the moment and the reason I started my new YouTube channel and this website, and why have taken a move in a new direction in my life.

    If you are a creative person, I really understand that you might see AI as the enemy. At the moment AI is just a phenomenal tool that is there for you to use and work out how you are going to navigate the next few years.

    AI is not coming, it is already here. Pretending otherwise is pointless. Please don’t be scared of it. Don’t hide from it. Don’t think it’s too complicated or that t’sonly here to make your life pointless. It’s not.

    Be brave and engage.

    I’ll be developing this theme over the next few weeks, especially with creative people in mind – I won’t call you creatives – that’s how the content machine sees and defines you.

    This is a golden moment when you can interact with AI cheaply and honestly.

    Very soon it will be monetised and enshitified to do nothing more than hold and sell your attention to the highest bidders, and you will be so dazzled, you won’t know what is going on – you won’t even know it’s happening.

    Now is the time to be a human being and understand what is happening so you are prepared.

    This isn’t a conspiracy theory, it’s a practical approach to navigating the next few years as a creative person. Hold on – it’s going to be an interesting ride!

  • Have you ever stopped to ask yourself where your attention goes — and who decided it should go there?
    We hear it said all the time, “Pay attention!” But few people ever question what that actually means. In school, it meant handing over your focus in exchange for knowledge — a kind of transaction. Attention was treated like currency, but nobody told us it could be stolen. Or squandered. Or invested with intention.
    Now, in the age of infinite scroll and algorithmic addiction, that same attention is being extracted — mined like a natural resource from the rich soil of your mind.
    And creative people are feeling it worst of all.

    Creative People Are Burned Out — But It’s Not Your Fault

    If you’re a maker, a writer, a musician, or an artist, chances are you’re running on fumes. Not because you’re lazy or uninspired — but because your attention has been hijacked. The platforms that once felt like playgrounds now feel more like trapdoors. The dopamine hits keep coming, but the joy is gone.
    You’re expected to constantly produce, share, perform — and somehow stay sane. That’s not sustainable.

    Let the Ground Rest

    In farming, there’s a practice called letting the field lie fallow. Every few years, a field is left untouched — no crops, no chemicals — just time. During that pause, the worms come up, the fungi spread, and the nutrients rebuild. What looks like “nothing happening” is actually quiet restoration.
    You are the field.
    If you want to grow new creative ideas, you have to rest the ground. That means reclaiming your attention from the systems that drain it, and giving it back to yourself — slowly, deliberately.

    Attention Is the First Creative Act

    Before you make anything, you attend to something. You notice. You observe. You turn toward. That first spark of noticing is sacred — it’s how form begins to take shape.
    But in a culture of distraction, your attention gets pulled in every direction until there’s nothing left to give.
    It’s time to change that.

    Before you make anything, you attend to something. You notice. You observe. You turn toward. That first spark of noticing is sacred — it’s how form begins to take shape.
    But in a culture of distraction, your attention gets pulled in every direction until there’s nothing left to give.
    It’s time to change that.

    What You Can Do (Right Now)

    • Delete the apps (even temporarily). Take social media off your phone and see what shifts.
    • Notice what you notice. Begin to track what holds your attention and what drains it.
    • Feed the soil. Read books. Walk in nature. Let real, grounded experiences refill you.
    • Trust the pause. Just because nothing’s visible doesn’t mean nothing’s happening.

    Join Me in the Fallow Ground

    This is why I created Fallow Ground. It’s not just a name — it’s a model. A resting place for creatives in a burnout culture. A space to reset, reflect, and rebuild your creative life from the soil up.
    If you’ve made it this far, maybe you’re ready too.
    Not to give up — but to pause with purpose.
    Let’s walk this path together.

    The video has been re-uploaded to the intended edited version.

  • Today, I had the pleasure of performing at the Cheltenham Science Festival alongside TV vet and author Jess French. We were speaking to an audience of children and their parents about animals – specifically, which room you’d choose to house different species in your home. We’d preselected ten animals, then let the children vote, which led to some good-natured haggling (ably handled by our chair, Becci Smith). 

    Jess talked about the animals and how they might cause problems in your house – we were talking about giraffes, hippos, beavers, meerkats and other unlikely house pets. Meanwhile, I demonstrated how to draw each animal and offered a few tips for young illustrators in the audience.

    The key thing I like to share with kids is that illustration starts with observation. It’s always best to get in the room or environment with the animal – to really see how it moves and works. Photos can be misleading. Of course, we can’t always be in the room, so illustrators have long relied on reference books, and now, tools like Wikicommons or Google Images.

    Personally, when I’m asked to illustrate a new animal – especially if it’s a main character – the first thing I search for are images of its skeleton and close ups of the feet and paws. That tells me everything about its underlying structure. And that’s one of my things: I’m a bit obsessed with structure. Once you understand what’s going on underneath, it becomes much easier to throw a surface ‘robe’ over it – even if the skeleton’s never seen, it’s there, holding everything up – even in simple cartoon drawings. Jess told me she could tell when an illustrator didn’t really know how an animal worked.

    That’s how I draw for a book illustration: a light lattice sketch in pencil to place the pose and composition, then I build from there, always considering how it will sit beside the text. That’s traditional illustration. But now? You can ask AI to do the same thing in seconds.

    Prompting as Art Direction

    I’ve been experimenting with image generation on ChatGPT and realise that prompting is just like being an art director. Having been on the receiving end of art direction for decades, I finally understand how frustrating that job must be. You want results, and fast. So naturally, art directors return to illustrators they know and trust. People who “get it” and deliver.

    Now, AI delivers.

    And it’s starting to flood not just the internet, but books too. So where does that leave illustrators? Where does it leave any creative?

    Because it’s not just illustration. It’s music, writing, voice, every creative discipline. They are all being reshaped by generative AI.

    Copying Photographs Is Dead

    I don’t think illustration is over. But copying photos? That’s done. That’s what many illustrators and art students were trained to do. You will often hear people say of a painting – “That’s amazing – it looks just like a photograph!” well.. that’s because, essentially, it is a photograph. 

    When I show kids or grownups how to draw something, I take them through the drawing step by step and… suddenly they can do it! They’ve followed my instructions. It sort of looks like my original.

    But ask them to take that drawing and turn it into an expressive character – something that can leap, twist, do handstands – and they freeze. Because that takes a different level of skill, of internalised form, of imagination grounded in understanding. There’s no shortcut for that. You have to learn to draw.

    If I’m sketching, I go straight to ink as I don’t need to fit a pre-determined shape. The structure is there in my head from years of practice and observation. That structure is like the muscle memory of a musician’s fingers. If you’ve done the practice so you don’t have to think about the notes – you are free to add the expression. So it is with drawing.

    That’s what will matter more and more: Your inner vision translated into a new but recognisable view of the world — something human. Something lived.

    I’ve always said that illustration is storytelling. That’s what we’ll need in the years ahead. AI will do decorative illustration brilliantly, instantly, and cheaply. But human illustration? From now on, that’s about expression – the storytelling “voice” saying: “This is how I see the world.”

    Human Creativity as a Generative Transformer

    AI might one day start generating its own styles – truly original ones. It might say: “This is what I, AI, notice about Flying Foxes,” and produce unique visual takes. But until it reaches true AGI, it’s still remixing – pre-trained on human work.

    It’s fair to say humans are pre-trained generative transformers, too. We study those who came before – the Quentin Blakes, the Maurice Sendaks – and we absorb bits of their technique. We see how they draw noses or feet or eyes. But we don’t just mash them together like a collage, or force them together like bits of jigsaws from different puzzles. We transform them into something new. That’s the difference.

    And that transformation? That’s the human layer.

    It’s like a lattice underneath, built from what you’ve studied, but overlaid with your own way of seeing. That takes time. It takes drawinganalysiseffort. And when it comes through, people recognise it. They say, “Ah — that’s your style.”

    AI can’t replicate that yet. It can imitate. But it can’t yet mean anything.

    Do Your Thing

    So, if you want to be an illustrator – learn to draw and learn to tell YOUR stories. If you want to be a musician – play the music that’s in your head, not what’s trending on Spotify or generated by a loop pack. If you’re a writer – write what matters to you, don’t let the AI flood push you off your course.

    Just do your thing.

    That’s what makes your work irreplaceable. Not its polish. Not its speed. But its point of view — the story only you can tell.

  • A conservation project for the relational field

    They told us it was a net to catch us when we fell.

    A web to connect us like the forest floor.

    But we didn’t realise we were the ones being caught.

    What we’ve built isn’t a network.

    It’s a monoculture.

    Scrolls instead of silence. Content instead of compost.

    But under that hard surface, the roots still twitch.

    The trees still murmur.

    The signal still moves — if you know how to listen.

    And so, Fallow Ground is not a return but a restoration.

    A clearing for those who feel the web under their feet,

    and know it’s not made of code, but of kinship.

  • Are you a creative person? Are you burned out? Welcome to the club!

    You, like me, have been played like a fool by the Internet, Social Media and the Corporations. You thought you were being a creative artist – in fact you were working harder and harder every day… for them.

    The internet demands attention and attention is product that social media sells to the advertisers. You are not a creator, not a viewer, not an influencer – you are the product being sold to advertisers who are the customers.

    You thought you were getting a free lunch!

    It’s time to take a breath of fresh air and take a long walk in the real world – rebalance and work out what to do with the rest of your life in the real, 3D world, to find out how you are going to escape the treadmill and flourish.

    I don’t have the answers, but I’m looking for them, and this website is a part of my search. Along the way, I hope I’ll find something that will be of help to you too.

  • There comes a point when the need to produce exhausts the fertility of the creative mind. It’s not failure — just the natural result of giving too much, for too long. That’s where I found myself a while back: not quite broken, but worn out — and needing a rest I didn’t think I deserved.

    The insatiable demands of the internet — and the corporations that feed on the work of those who make it beautiful — have driven many to burn out. Somehow, that’s become a career path.

    In my fallow year (or two), staring into space, walking the ways, thinking, wondering — I’ve had thoughts. And I’m looking to the future: a time where creative people can once again enjoy what they do, making work that honours and explains the human condition.

    This site isn’t a platform. It’s not a refuge or a rallying cry. It’s just a small patch of internet real estate where I can think aloud. Write things down. Sketch the outlines of ideas I’ve passed a hundred times, but never quite seen.

    It’s not always clear what’s next — but it is clear that something needs to shift. So this is me, stepping off the main path. Not retreating. Just walking differently. On my own path.

    If you’ve found your way here, you’re welcome to walk a while too.

    — Shoo

Join 12 other subscribers

Stay in the loop with everything you need to know.