Illustration by Greg Vineyard
Love the Moments
You know those moments where the thought just won’t gel?
Not just that you’ve doodled it out different ways and are still struggling with every little aspect of it, but I mean even before that. A theme has been assigned, research is done, URLs are bookmarked, you’ve lit up Pinterest like a Christmas tree at the coffee house, and everything’s really quite exciting. And, despite all evidence showing you are going to make such a stupendous illustration that the universe will make up some sort of special award just to acknowledge this very amazing thing you’re doing… suddenly your whole being suddenly says “I can’t.” Blocked.
I’m not saying my intense description here means this has happened to me, of course. (A million times.) But when it may or may not have happened in my world, the fifteenth sketch is as, well, sketchy, as the fourteen before it. By the way, did I mention this usually happens when the deadline is looming, and almost always only then?
While I’m talking specifically about art, this could happen on any type of project in any profession. (Fill In The Blank) Block is a broad-spectrum equal opportunity challenge. And this is in stark contrast to those times when a quick scribble on a napkin in a coffee house is simply scanned-in and becomes a working identity on a major project. We tend to forget that decades of experience went into that sketch, and that it wasn’t really a lucky thing like a Lotto win, but rather, simply a nice break. Moving on.
The hints I use for myself. (Er, IF I had ever had this problem that I seem to know way too much about.)
Detach. Clear your mind. I highly recommend Marvel Comics-related movies. Of course.
Change Environments. Or at least move to the other side of the coffee house. New perspectives bring fresh insights.
Commiserate. Seriously. Go whine to the friend that knows you, and who will listen even though it’s the exact same thing you whined about last time.
Start Earlier. I know this is so bleedingly obvious, but…
Work in hourly increments. It helps to literally schedule the studio time. Put down that second Marvel movie, and go draw.
Know your “hot” times – mine is 5 a.m. If something has to get done, I go to bed an hour earlier, and get up an hour earlier. And I’m not saying I’m typing this very sentence at 5:11 a.m., but… it’s working out, because I scheduled it. Because I know this is my zone.
Change Materials. This can be tricky. I don’t mean change from watercolor to oils, because that’s like, a two-year plan that really won’t help with that deadline that’s on Wednesday. But perhaps try a yellow pad and a Bic pen. You know, at that new coffeehouse. If one is always on the computer, try dusting off the super-nice sketchpad you haven’t cracked.
Rewards. For me, I’m talkin’ Skittles. The only human word I think my cat understands is “Treats!” Which I usually say in a bad British accent. (Between that and BBC radio at night, the poor thing probably thinks he’s in England.)
Because of the previous comment, I must mention that diet and exercise and sleep can be a huge help. Because treats can’t become the meal. Step Away From The Vending Machine.
Trust that it’ll be alright. The magic will come back. The idea will come. The final drawing will be beautiful. The Skittles will not run out. (OK, we know that one is just a total lie. In my house, anyway.)
Every experience is another layer of learning, growing, strengthening. Even though each time I (Allegedly, I tell you!) go through this, it feels the same. I continually learn as I bumble along the path. Some days are tougher than others, and some projects are tougher than others, and sometimes tough projects happen on already-tough days. But the most important thing (besides the treats; seriously, ask my cat) is to stay the course.
Just like a series of sketches, life is a progression. A trip. A journey. Since each moment is the only one we get, we can appreciate the process as having value.
