The Creative Process Pt 1: A Leaky Faucet of Consciousness

Forgot that I needed to reinstall my tablet driver.  Logo to come tomorrow, but until then:

Enough people have, in the past, expressed some interest about the process in which I do the crafty thing that I thought I'd write about it.  Because, on Sunday, I have an event where I need a semi-specific outfit, I thought that over a few days, I'd describe from start to finish how it gets made.  Sorry if this kind of thing isn't really your cup of tea.  We'll probably be back to your regularly scheduled musings by Monday next.

I am, without a doubt, a compulsive doodler:

 

A coworker once told me that no one would ever accidentally mistake my notebook for theirs.  All one has to do is open to the first page, as he has often noted across the table during conference calls. Between lulls in meetings, a blank page in a notebook becomes an open canvas.  It might sound like a bit dubious, but I promise that I hear every word being said.  Sketching engages my brain on a separate level that just listening alone cannot.  I.e. - it's how I keep myself from passing out when people start bullshitting buzzwords.

When people see me draw, often one of the first things they ask me is, "Where do you get your ideas from?"  The boring answer I tend to give is, "Just my imagination."  The truth is, it is a leaky faucet of consciousness.

"A whothewhatnow?"

So, a stream of consciousness is defined in the Oxford Dictionary as a person's thoughts and conscious reactions to events, perceived as a continuous flow.  A leaky faucet of consciousness was wittily described by one of my friends from 11th grade English class as a more halting, unsteady flow of thoughts.  I'm sure it's supposed to be used primarily for describing a person's internal mind-wanderings, but my mind likes to wander into my fingertips and across the page.  For doodling, this is both awesome and awful, for reasons I will elaborate on in a moment.

Another really common question I get is, "How did you learn to draw?" The short answer is, "Classes in grade school," which is kind of true, but mostly a lie.  I've been doodling since I could hold a crayon, and I've been teaching myself through an infinite cycle of repetition.  However, it was 7th grade art class (bless you, Mrs. Cowherd, you ever-patient angel) that taught me proper proportions.  At the time, I didn't really care for them; it was just something I had to put up with to get my grade.  Much, much later,  I grew to appreciate them for two reasons.  One - as an engineer, having a starting point is always great.  Two - instant mannequin for my latest hobby - dress design.  (And as a bonus - it makes as a great base for drawing androids)

I go through phases of drawing.  In grade school, my obsession was eyes.  As of late, probably because I've become a more avid seamstress, my focus has shifted to dresses.

So, back to Leaky Faucet for a sec.  On the one hand, it's fabulous, because at random points in the day, just when I think I'm at my low point, I'll think of some random skirt from a website, or a character's uniform that I've wanted to design, or a whatever, and life returns to me for a bit.

On the other hand, it is a pain in the rear because Leaky Faucet is just that -- leaky.  It can't be controlled.  It can't be turned off.  This often means I have a million options to choose from - flutter sleeves?  Spaghetti strap?  A-line skirt, or handkerchief?  And since I draw in pen, I don't really get much of a second chance.

I've sort of bypassed this issue altogether with most of the dresses and other clothing items I've posted to this blog, but that also tends to be troublesome for me, as I blindly launch into a project on a whim, and end up with lopsided measurements, and then have a hundred alternations that need to be made later.

In an effort to yield a slightly more professional/palatable product, I'm going to attempt to go from start to finish in a completely methodical manner, which I will outline here.  Normally, I'd be writing about said process from start to finish in one go, but I have about half an hour until I need to post this to meet my deadline, and most importantly -- it's a 30-day challenge.  I need all the padding I can get :p

Tomorrow: how an idea goes from faucet to paper.

Until the next.