Success and momentum
My completed 3-D composition
Group mediocrity (see previous post), as it turns out, did lead to a distorted pattern for my last 3-D Design project. However, I'm pleased to report that I overcame it with a final composition that incorporated a pre-distortion object and two distorted patterns used in such a way that the distortion didn't matter.
What did I learn?
1. Voice your concerns and convictions in the group as aggressively as necessary to avoid going down the easy, mediocre, group path.
2. Don't get upset by unintended or unexpected problems - make the best of them for a creative solution.
3. Practice articulating the choices you make to solve the problem; "sounding good" promotes "looking good."
My project received positive reviews from the class and instructor, so now I'm pumped to move on to the next (even more difficult) 3-D design. Successful completion of creative projects is important to maintaining momentum and continued creativity. This is true in any endeavor, even those that don't strike you as particularly creative.
Take my bathroom renovation for example. I paid someone to take out the old tub and put in a wonderful new tiled shower. I vowed to do the painting myself, with help from my son. Alas, I let myself lose momentum and now it's hard to get it back. The solution is to look at the project in small chunks (spackle holes, sand, clean walls, etc.) and take them one at a time. The successful completion of the first will fuel the momentum on the next one, and so on, until the whole thing is finished.
Happy completion!
...I have succumbed to "group mediocrity?"
Model of 3-D object
In the continuing saga of my 3-D design team project, we are at the point where the team has turned in its design and awaits the verdict on whether or not the design, when cut out and folded, will truly fold into the object we envisioned. Did we correctly separate the cut layer from the fold layer in our digital pattern? And will the design allow me to create an interesting composition, emphasizing line, while using three of the objects (folded, partially folded, or flat) that we designed.
I know it's difficult for me to communicate the anxious, agonizing, anticipation behind these questions without some visual reference, so I'm uploading a picture of our draft model. Imagine that object unfolded, unglued, and flattened; the two-dimensional pattern for that object is what our team has been struggling with for the past week. Now, it's up to me to take three of those patterns, in three different sizes, and turn them into a composition.
I fear that in the process of working toward team consensus and getting this pattern ready to turn in we may have compromised on quality and creativity. I can think of many ways we might have enhanced the basic pattern in order to have more interesting compositional possibilities. But, just as business teams often compromise just to get the job done, I believe our art project team did the same. Yes, we got the job done, but I sensed a lack of engagement, a deficit of personal responsibility, and a "whatever" attitude that was, in effect, an acceptance of mediocrity.
Mind you, I'm not blaming my teammates, for I know I could have held up the process by insisting we spend just a few more minutes considering design options before clicking the "save" button. Why didn't I? Perhaps because I sensed their lack of engagement and feared making it worse. Well, now, it's up to each of us to make what we can of the pattern we created. If it doesn't go together properly, or if it doesn't offer the kind of compositional flexibility I might like, each of us will pay the price - in grade points.
I've seen this so often in the business world: the boss pushes her vision; the employees follow along for the sake of their jobs but not because they really grasp the vision and feel engaged in making it happen. The varied levels of commitment and engagement were frustrating in the business world but even more so in the art world where there's more ego involved.
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What if my 3-D concept doesn't work?
I've been asking myself if this 3-D Design class I'm taking at the University of Utah is one of those infamous "weeding out" classes; the one designed to trip up would-be art majors who aren't really committed. It's definitely challenging, especially when the assignments call for the use of tools, which, if you don't already know how to use them, involve a steep learning curve.
For example, in assignment #2, we're supposed to take a 3-D object/model and "unfold" it, such that it is a contiguous, flat, two dimensional "pattern" that can be drawn, then printed, using Adobe Illustrator. Picture a cube, or box, that you have unfolded by taking it apart at the glued flaps. Except our designs are supposed to be "original" shapes, not simple boxes. Thankfully, we are to work in teams for the first part of the assignment and every team is supposed to have a member who knows at least a little bit about Illustrator. However, control-freak that I am, I'm not willing to be totally at the mercy of my classmate, whom I barely know, even if he's a genius at Illustrator.
So, this weekend, I've been trying to learn enough about Illustrator to stand (or fall) on my own, if necessary, or if my teammates (heaven forbid) decide to drop out of school and hitchhike to Baja. I played with Illustrator enough to know what I didn't know. Then I contacted a graphic designer friend who graciously spent a couple of hours giving me a tutorial over the phone. I was feeling pretty competent, thanks to her coaching and pretty well completed the drawing.
Too tired to print it out and test it to see if it would actually fold into the object I envisioned, I went to bed. I tossed and turned all night. Each time I awakened, I thought about the drawing and the object it was supposed to be. Would it work? I wondered. And what if it didn't? What if we'd have to start over on a new concept?
This morning I printed, cut out, and folded my pattern, holding my breath with anxiety. Hooray! It works! I need to add some finishing touches, but at least I know we won't have to start over. When I meet with my team tomorrow, I'll have a new tool in my toolbox - a working knowledge of Illustrator - so that I can actively contribute, rather than sitting back and letting my teammates do the heavy lifting.
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What if I kept an open mind?
I never really thought of myself as stubborn. In fact, I normally see both sides of an issue so clearly that I have trouble making a decision. However, this week my stubbornness manifested in a way that hampered creativity.
In working on my abstract 3-D wire relief sculpture, I was determined to include a coiled spiral in the design. First of all, I'm drawn to the spiral as an art form. Second, I had a really clear vision of both process and outcome: I'd use thin wire, wrap it around a dowel, and then spiral the coil on my art piece, attaching one end to the surface/foam core and the other end to a 4-6-inch high "tower."
My instructor warned me against spirals. She tried to convince me, at least for this piece, to use a different form, saying that the spiral is an attention hog and warning that the overall composition would suffer as a result. But would I listen? No! I was so bound and determined to have my way, to make real this spiral coil vision, that I didn't consider alternatives.
When we presented and critiqued our work on Wednesday, I had to (finally, and too late) admit that the instructor was right. The spiral was a distraction in a piece that had a lot of good things going for it. Not a great way to start off the semester with an instructor who doesn't know me and now probably thinks I am unreasonable as well as uncreative, if that's a word.
This afternoon, listening to NPR, I heard a motorcycle mechanic (with a Ph.D. in philosophy) say that when he diagnoses a problem with a bike, he is careful to keep an open mind, acknowledging to himself that his hypothesis about the problem could be wrong. Only by being open to other possibilities can he avoid going headlong down a wrong path.
That's good advice for all of us, whether we're creating art or a way to solve the healthcare crisis.
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