“Make it Work”

The creative process is mythical and never clearly defined.  At no point in college does anyone say “this is how to write a story” and offer step-by-step instructions.  We required to figure it out for ourselves.  So, we spend time on ideas, accumulated into Moleskines or folders on your hard drive, and structure, on notecards or post-its stuck across our dorm rooms, until each one of us arrive at a method that best suits us.  This process is complicated and never stays constant as the writer moves from story to story.  There’s need for flexibility and evolution.  One must recognize the innate drive to redesign and restructure our stories.

After college, I would get into conversations with people about their creative process.  Writer, artist, dancer – it doesn’t matter, it’s all about disseminating our m.o. so that the other person may find something in there that may help them on a later or current project.  But since I’m far away from people, aside from my wife, who are overly creative, especially those interested in writing, I’ve had to find new ways of digging up these nuggets.

Right now, I’ve found the best way to observe an artists creative process has been on television and, more specifically, on the show Project Runway.  Now that you’ve finished your snickering let me explain.  Most reality shows are set up to spend some time with the “contestants”, mostly in interview form, and a sizable segment with the “hosts” of the show.  In those contestant focused moments we watch and listen as they attempt to explain something that has happened in their world – ie. the world of the show.  Usually, this means people being catty, divulging their plots on how they’ll win the challenge that has been set forth, and spending as little time as possible talking about “process”.  With Project Runway, the focus is on process 80% of the time.  Whether that be the process of deciding what kind of “garment” each designer will be making, showing each designer’s sketch, sewing, or being critiqued, it’s all part of process.  And none of that faux process.  This is nitty-gritty stuff.

Each designer sketch, most do anyway, out their garment then frantically rip through a fabric store to see what will make their creation come to life.  They then begin setting up their mannequin, draping fabric to see how they lay and move on the dummy, pinning pieces here and there to display the overall structure of the piece they’ll be attempting to create.  Then begins the actual creation.

Designers sew and glue and stitch pieces together in hopes that they can go from idealized, formulated thing – that thing they created in their minds – to finished product.  Soon thereafter, Tim Gunn, a professor of design, walks through their space and speaks with each about their piece(s).  He critiques the fabric, design, and lay of their creation on their mannequin as a teacher would; not a lot of pointless comments, all helpful, loving advice on his viewpoint and with an aim at letting the designer make the decisions and figure things out for themselves instead of being outright told what to do.  And with this you see each designer’s approach change.  Some for the better as they’ve been bolstered up by Tim’s walkthrough and positive or creative comments and others for worst.  It’s those worse people that fascinate me the most.

Just like in the world of writing there are people able to accept criticisms and advice and those who are so trapped in their own head (to be polite) to recognize that what they were attempting to create may not look like what they initially set up to create, or, simply, that they’re way out of touch.  It’s those people, those completely out of touch with what is supposed to be going (the challenge), that are asked to leave early on, leaving those with the will, drive, and ability to sacrifice ego for the betterment of not only their career but the product they’re trying to create.

After all is said and done, each garment is paraded down the runway in front of judges, mostly those writers or designers who would hire or purchase the items from the designers in the real world.  It’s here that we not only see the finished, oft rushed product but the exposure of self.  Each designer has done something that they’re either proud of or insecure about.  Those with pride can be spotted immediately: standing tall, head up, often smiling and accepting of cheers or jeers.  It’s ownership and recognition that what you’ve created on that particular day is just an indication of what is to come, positive or negative.

With all that said, I’m currently in the “planning phases” of several books and strips.  One of my artists and I had a conversation earlier today about a strip we’ll be working on and hopefully debuting in the next month or so, another one is off in school and waiting for me to settle somewhere (physically) and write a script so he and I can talk more about what it is, could and will be, and when we’ll begin full-scale production.

All other items in the planning phase are attached to no artists or illustrators, but that’s part of the process.  You have to figure out what you’re trying to create before you can sign an artists up.  Steps are required, draping of fabric on the mannequin, so to speak.

That’s it for now. Bye bye.