Counting on results you can’t count on
One of the wonderful things about using certain art mediums is their unpredictability. That's right – you cannot count on exactly what you’ll end up with. I find it invigorating and energizing. It makes me feel I’m alive. I like that.
I’m a painter and letter artist and have tremendous control over what my finished work will look like with paint and ink and pen and brush. But there are other mediums that don’t allow such precision.
Like intaglio. The first moment you’re not fully in control starts with drawing your image in reverse. You cover the plate with a ground, then remove the ground pulling lines and areas of your image layer by layer from the plate, each time dropping it again and again into an acid bath. You calculate as best you can how each time will deepen the previously etched lines. You can control the time that the plate’s left in the bath but that’s it.
Once you’ve etched the lines and areas to the depths you perceive right for the piece, you take off what’s left of the ground. Then it’s time to ink. You control what color ink you put and where, you control what what kind of paper you’ll use and how wet it will be; but then physics takes over. The ink will transfer according to pressure upon saturation properties. You run it through the press and voilá – the magic happens.
And it's not perfectly predictable.
Like 35mm film photography. You choose your film speed, you set your aperture, you choose the light - or maybe have no control of it - you focus, and shoot. Once the roll of film is shot, you remove it from the camera then develop the negatives.
After the negatives are developed, you enter the dark room to pull your prints. It’s not digital and instant. There are chemicals and baths and timing. The original vision you had when you shot the image many times will not be what you tried to capture. It’s all a process of certain yet not perfectly predictable variables.
Like pottery making. You can control what you do with the clay. You can mold the form to look like what you want it to look like. You can choose the glaze.
But you can only control to a degree what the final work will look like. Because things can and will happen in the firing. It depends where the piece will be placed inside the kiln and how many others will be there, too. There's the size of the kiln. There are the drafts. The people responsible for firings differ in their expertise, preferences, and competence. It’s all very exciting because you will always be surprised. Even more exciting are nonelectric kiln firing methods like sawdust, and salt, and raku. You know how to fire but it’s always a game of trial and error, being surprised and making adjustments, each time learning something to make the next time a better, more successful try. There’s always a buzz of anticipation and wonder. More unknowns. More surprises.
You simply have no full, real control.
So why do I love it? Because the most beautiful things happen when we live with love according to the laws of science, and ah yes the metaphysical.
We put in our best efforts and attention doing what we know are the right things to do to accomplish our dreams. We project the possibilities and potentials. We make corrections and improvements and try new things along the way, confident yet anticipating with wonder. We trust in the process and welcome the magic.
It’s what Living is all about.
Stepping into each new day, living it, and trusting that we’ll come out of the fire a magnificent and unique work of art.
I'm a vocal trainer and break-through coach. I help you grow your confidence, your presence, and trust in Life while building your vocal strength. Book a free discovery call to talk about how I can help you today.
