Repetition and Variation
For me, making art is more often than not a process oriented system of obsession. I jest, but in truth, I often feel as though a piece of work is like a problem to be solved that is very difficult to stop thinking about until it’s finished. I find it challenging to stay focused on the daily rituals that need attention as I’m distracted by mustering up and clarifying ideas in my mind. It helps to write things down or just do the work so that I can let it go and move on.
Usually, I start without a plan in mind. I begin drawing, painting or cutting paper, etc. and when I start to see some sort of idea come into play, I develop it. At other times, I have a specific image I want to portray and may briefly look at examples for inspiration. I do keep it brief though, as it is important to me that my work be my own and not overly influenced by that of others. To be honest, I find this method much more difficult and less intuitive. I think it’s because I already have a final product in mind and cannot get as involved in the flow of creating within set expectations. In this scenario, I often create dozens of renditions before finding “the one” to settle on. The struggle is real but worth it, when I end up with something as lovable as my “Penguin” design. When I don’t have a final product in mind, I might doodle for five minutes and come up with something I simply adore, or spend hours and end up throwing out 20 “no-go’s”.
I believe balance is the most important aspect of my art, in relation to weight, movement, color and texture. I feel strongly that a design should be successful at keeping the viewers eye within the work rather than directing your attention outwards. I have lots of rules that I like to follow like making sure a line doesn’t point directly to a corner or that if one curve feels like it’s weighing too heavily down towards one side, another curve must bring everything back up. I like to feel that my work encompasses a visually pleasing equilibrium of repetition and variation.
The use of repetition and variation are what makes many forms of artistic expression successful. You’ll find this in choreography, music, writing, and the visual arts. We as the audience, desire an experience that includes both the comfort and familiarity of repetition and the surprise and excitement of variation. It’s the dance between these two aspects of creation that keep us engaged in the work. Alternatively, some artists like to take you through the discomfort of imbalance and disorder. There is definitely a time and place for this sort of chaos in art, inspiring reflection and evaluation. However, I’ve found this style of composition not to be in tandem with my artistic voice.
When I am in the flow of creating, I love working out how to complete the puzzle of landing on a final balanced product. I could spend hours doing this and walk away with either several satisfying pieces or nothing great and still feel good about the time spent. Afterwards, I reenter the world a little crossed eyed, foggy and pleased. It feels like work that I should be doing. If too much time passes between creating art, I have the sense that I am neglecting an important and authentic part of who I am.
I am also a busy mom and so have to mold the time to do this work, within the cracks of quiet. These moments are few and far between. I get up before the kids and stay awake after them. I have tried to work along side them while providing them with art materials of their own, but it’s not easy. I find the interruptions to be counter productive. Also, we have had to make the family rule that you do not add to anyone else’s artwork unless they invite you to do so. You can imagine why we needed this rule and the frustration involved. I’ve also come to appreciate having less attachment to my work. While each piece is precious, it’s important to not place too much value on the product and more value on the process. I’d rather enjoy the time I’m spending and be okay if I have to throw something out than to work with tension and disappointment. Grasping is also counter productive and simply not fun.
So, I work when I can and practice not being too concerned with the end result. I have come to appreciate my style of working and what I end up with. At 44, I still suffer from imposter syndrome sometimes, but I have also come to appreciate the normalcy of that, and have learned to just keep going. The way I go about creating and what I create, is mine to experience and I feel good about it. And, I LOVE sharing it all with you!