Artistic Autonomy

How much instruction is too much?

"How do these bricks look?" she asked for the 5th time. "Gosh I don't know, probably exactly like the last four groups you painted, which I said looked great!" I wanted to retort. But THAT, ladies and gentlemen, would've been rude of me. So I think I said something like, "I'm sure they're just as good as the first side–I trust your artistic ability." 

On the drive back from that project I had to pause and think. How much help is too much? and how little is too little? I don't think I have an answer yet, but here are some ramblings.

When do you stop Brainstorming?

For this particular project, I was helping a friend's little sister with her school cardboard car derby box. Y'know, the one where the little kids pick up a box and try (then fail) to run in a straight line? That box. I thought, "I do this [cardboard art instruction] as a job! Surely I can help with this project–no sweat." But boy, was I in for a ride. 

If it had just been the one sister, maybe the brainstorming process would've been simple. I know how to listen to the ideas of kids and try and work with what they give me instead of stepping on their toes with my own big ideas. I know how to do the balancing act of asking them details about what they are picturing and helping them pick ones that will work.

But there were three more sisters and a Mom, all with ideas for this car. And the poor little one making the car was of the age where she can't quite picture things in her head yet, so she jumped from offered idea to offered idea until I almost broke down. "Just PICK ONE!" I wanted to scream. But screaming is never an option–the options were the problem.

When should you stop brainstorming? is a great question. You could keep going forever, thinking of more and more possibilities, trying and failing to run your idea bed dry, but thinking more will never make more happen. There comes a point where you just need to start.

What I found–in reflection–was stressing me out was that we weren't starting. And the little one wanted to paint! She would ask "can I paint yet?" and the box had quite literally nothing added to it, and no decisions had been made. So we needed to make a decision and go with it.

What if You Take the "Wrong" First Step?

That first decision is a tricky one. What if it fails? 

Well you're in luck, because if it fails, you have one way you know won't work that you didn't before. You know what to try and improve, and one final result you aren't happy with. There's a famous Thomas Edison quote that goes, "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." and that is the attitude you should take if that first step "fails". 

You just succeeded in making something you don't like. So what? 

Sticky notes were created because of a "failed" adhesive. It was meant to be stronger, but alas, the adhesive was perfect! for something not initially intended. Nothing is useless, it just too often isn't placed in the right context. 

For the car, we didn't take the wrong first step when we finally took one. We started painting with a plan and went with it. The key words there being, "we started."

How Much Instruction is Too Much?

Both the sister's repeated affirmation seeking, "is this good?" and the initial idea generation process have me wondering how much help can you give before it starts to hinder? How little is too little? At NMPL, patrons are often provided templates for crafts and activities instead of a blank sheet of paper and a prompt. This makes sense, as they are often not doing the activities for a creative problem-solving experience, but instead to pass the time with something relaxing. Creating everything from scratch isn't particularly relaxing, I suppose. Complete freedom often paralyzes sane individuals (while I start rattling off the most random ideas with ease), but I want to know at what point they are contributing the most creativity before it just becomes a task. 

For example, Legos. They come with instructions, and when you follow the instructions they function as a puzzle with an answer key. On their own, they open doors to infinite creativity with some practical (physical) boundaries. 

When drawing, you could start with a circle, or a square, or any number of shapes, and then add to it from your mind until something takes shape. Or you could practice empirical drawing, where you have a reference and mimic it in your work. Whether pulling from your mind's catalog, or a catalog in front of you, the limits are only in the supplies and your ability unless you place more boundaries on the project. 

I feel like I'm rambling, trying to grasp for a point. I think the point could be "just do it," but that's taken. Let's break it down:

Okay. So you have an idea. That idea (to become anything real) needs to be acted upon. So eventually, you take that first step. There are boundaries, but they are unique to each project. How much help is too much? Well I guess that's included in the boundaries portion. 

Maybe the challenge is that you have no outside help. Maybe you can only ask three questions. Maybe the instructor gives you a prompt and that's it. Maybe they apply their skills in a way you tell them to. There's no one answer, but instead a sort of graph with the amount of help correlating to the creative freedom of the helped. On one end, there is so much structure to the project that it feels only like a chore–there is no personal choice, you are only completing a task. While on the other side there is no help at all–you must create everything from what is in front of you and within you and your mind already. In between are the blurry parts, where instructors could step in, or ask guiding questions, or provide feedback without physically helping. Any of those nuances could lead to degrees of creative freedom and influenced results.

Anyways, I guess it's a good thing I prefaced as a did because 

I really don't have one answer.