Ask someone what Cambridge students do over Easter vacation and the answer seems obvious: they revise. Exam term looms insidiously, deadlines reappear, and students are swallowed up by libraries. Cambridge has a reputation for being totalising. Easter vacation feels like it exists merely as an extension of the term, not a break. There is only one purpose for students of this institution: work. It is a compelling story, but not entirely right. Speaking to students about how they spend their free time, it becomes clear that Cambridge students, remarkably, do have lives beyond university.

Rosie Briginshaw, for instance, is preparing for her second-year History and Politics exams over Easter, but she is also building a paper replica of Howl’s castle from Studio Ghibli’s Howl’s Moving Castle — an intricate project she has devoted herself to with the kind of unhurried focus that term does not allow.

“Academic work and creative life can feel like separate registers but, for Rosie, creativity is an underlying presence in how she moves through the day”

Art has always run parallel to academia in Rosie’s life, the two separate yet compatible. Creativity is not something she “switches on and off,” she says. It shows up in unsung moments throughout her day: photographing the city’s architecture when walking to a supervision, putting together an outfit for a formal, organising welfare events as Churchill College’s JCR Women’s Officer, or anything from pumpkin carving to felt-tip drawing sessions. Academic work and creative life can feel like separate registers but, for Rosie, creativity is an underlying presence in how she moves through the day.

“I tend to gravitate towards pencil drawing and painting as my main mediums,” Rosie says, but adds that recently she has been experimenting with embroidery and textiles. Over Christmas, she made a small swan tapestry from spare fabric. During the holidays, Rosie naturally has more time to devote to art-making, immersing herself in projects for hours at a time. That said, her creative habits “do not disappear by any means” during term, they simply become embedded in the everyday.

For those in STEM, the distance between academia and creativity can feel wider. Laura Verdina, a second-year Biological Natural Sciences student, confesses that the holidays are when her creative life bourgeons. Although she dropped A-level Art in Year 12 to pick up A-level Biology, Laura still paints, making large, immersive pieces with acrylics on canvas. These can take days, and it is only possible at home, with her materials around her and time of her own. “I’m the type of person who likes to finish a painting or creative project in one big effort,” a practice that is incompatible, she admits, with a NatSci timetable.

What work happens during term, then, is much smaller but more enduring. Laura carries a sketchbook and makes sketches whenever the mood takes her: on a break from studying or on a Post-it note when boredom strikes. The lower stakes are part of the charm. They don’t have to be finished, or even beautiful. Laura is candid about the creative loss intrinsic to her degree: “I wish it was easier to incorporate painting into my routine but sadly I do find it really tricky.” One consolation for Laura, she tells me, is that Cambridge has proven an inspiring place, with its rich history and beautiful views. The city seeps into the work even when the work doesn’t fully materialise.

“Nicki loves getting involved in things that feel bigger than herself, creating things alongside people she loves”

For Nicki Patru, a second-year English student, it is not the city but its people that permeates her art. Surprisingly, Nicki feels most productive during term time. She primarily writes poetry and makes mixed media visual art, but is constantly dabbling in new mediums like printmaking, embroidery, and acrylic painting.

At Cambridge, Nicki is surrounded by people who create. She collaborates with others, submits work to zines and art festivals, and attends exhibitions with friends. But most often, she likes to simply sit together with fellow creatives, sketchbooks open in what she calls “parallel play.” Other people’s projects impose a shape on her work that she struggles to find alone during the vacation: “Trying to fit in with someone’s editorial or curatorial vision narrows my path in a way that makes creation much easier.” This does something that academic life at Cambridge might not: it counters its individualism. Nicki loves getting involved in things that feel bigger than herself, creating things alongside people she loves. “Being competitive definitely helps you do better academically,” she says, “but being collaborative and willing to learn from others absolutely makes you a better artist.” The holidays offer the solitude that we often think is necessary for art-making, but for people like Nicki, it can also produce indecision, rendering vacation art “nebulous and incomplete.”

Working toward something that is not meticulously measured, or even finished, might be what connects all these Cambridge creatives. Thankfully, there is no mark for creativity. While revision timetables and deadlines feel like the top priority, they are only a small part of the vision: the rest persists through rough sketches and half-built paper castles.