In every art studio or class worth its salt, there is a continual battle against fetishizing of process. "I must be THIS GOOD today, I must have THE PERFECT idea, my references must be ABSOLUTE, my tools need to be--"
Okay, self, my love, your goal is to make an art, not sell a process to yourself. These thoughts are evidence of fears of failure and/or everything external chewing your mortal bones that exist in a friend group and society.
My new favorite art tool is a handheld light duty staple gun.
Please note: There is no link, there is no brand name, this is not a sales pitch.
This general issue, standard, cheap staple gun is fast, is thorough, it has a satisfying weight whose pleasure is exceeded exclusively with the metallic ker-thunk of the direct action of stapling.
The painting in the background is a study I have been worrying over since this summer. The original idea is solid, the layout was off, it is time to let go and try again... it is time to radically alter the layout via cheap printer paper and ker-thunk ker-thunk ker-thunk, tear away, add more paper, tear a bit...
AH HA!
In about as much time as it took to write the above, I solved a bunch of composition problems and created the banner for this blog post. I now have a roadmap for the next study, and a satisfying blog post header.
"Oh no the lighting is kinda terrible for the blog post... OH?! I'LL JUST ADD A FILTER IN PHOTOSHOP. IT'S LEGITIMATELY WORKS. Clip save post, ready, go."
I am so bored with bloodless, actual high-end, low-end wearing a high-end veneer paint job, simulacrum of perfect taste, flawless, over styled, over wrought, over thought, over capitalized, behind-a-paywall, to read this you must subscribe (it's free but we still need your data!)... you-must-be-this-connected to know about... everything.
There is absolutely a time, and place, for optimization, and using every effort-saving tool at one's disposal to make things, extend ideas, build connections, and distribute them quickly, efficiently, cheaply, and in a way that can be read / watched / look at / enjoyed / processed by an audience that would this shared task.
And.
There is absolutely a void trap lurking just outside the narrow limit to the above, this void is limitless in size and scope, that will swallow you whole if you do not reign in, with a sharp, ruthless eye, trained upon the value of the time and energy spent optimizing things.
Because.
Every "I need a specific brush," every "a table of this height will reduce physical strain, allowing me to paint for longer," every "this paper is surprisingly good... expensive, but worth it," every "haha, staple gun go ker-thuhk!" serves a singular, unwavering purpose:
Making things better, faster, more accessible, and/or less expensive while building prosperity for me and a neat experience for you, the person / ghost / monster / et cetera reading this.
It is so easy to get lost in the feeling of strategic necessity.
Technology has brought unprecedented access to the largest of tools into the smallest of workshops, and in this rush, has revealed seemingly endless fears of even the smallest misstep.
I am slowly transforming away from a graphic design studio into an art studio.
I am working on / have sold off the business-y aspects to the other Various Things I Do to raise cash to fund operations, and find myself pouring into more and more into Making Things.
The pathways are:
- Mail. Admittedly... not going great. I owe a lot of people letters and I'm finding myself trapped in the cycle of "this mail must be perfect." The above is equal parts self art-talk and self mail-talk.
- Painting. See above!
- Stories with illustrated headers. So many are in editing, and the mindset of writing is returning.
- Essays about fantasy nonsense. Essentially an off-shoot of stories. When there isn't a narrative and I need to work-build. I have some thoughts on dragon economies I'm chewing on...
- Essays about art. (Hi!)
- Side quests. There is a temptation to try absolutely everything, and there is an equal counterweight of "I must focus!" The former is ruinous in lack of actually finishing anything, the latter equally so by frustration via deprivation. The inspiration for this comes from an episode of American Dad (S06 E09) where Francine tells the family she will continue to cook for them every day, but Thursdays are her day to do whatever she wants. This pressure release feels mission-critical in art. When a new whatever pops into focus, it is explored on Side Quest Time.
It sounds circular, but the truth is flat, simple, and straight forward: the only path is to start the damn thing, the only way to succeed is to do the damn thing.
The progress of progress
This blog post took 14 minutes longer to write than anticipated (acceptable) and I found 1 formatting issue.
Rather than handle it immediately, I shifted tone a bit and made a note to handle during next Side Quest Time, wherein I'll explore the nebulous pleasure of web site programming.
This post is being written on Thursday morning. I am taking this coming Friday through Sunday to assess why I have been so hesitant to review my inbound and outbound mail, then dissolve these harmless anxieties into ink, paint, stickers, paper, stamps, and envelopes.