Wagging Tongues

I pulled off a sculpture I’ve been working on to sketch up a birthday card for my good friend. While the portrait is small, 4×6, the subject is an Irish Wolfhound – as in, his tongue is bigger than this card. However, as any creators know, the time away from my sculpture proved clarifying. It was a tiny break for a tiny drawing, and yet, when I cleared my working table of pencils, erasers, and sharpeners and sat my 3-D project back under the lights, my hands – not my head – knew what to do to finish. And largely, I did finish. All that’s left is, well, the finish.

No matter the media, be it writing, designing, music, sculpture, woodworking, or gardening, my process is the same. First, understand what I want to say, then mock it up, tear down and build the framework, hang the flesh, and rework. As it begins to take on a life of its own, edit and groom the piece toward what it’s becoming. That way, we’re partners – the muses and me. The subtle changes to my initial intent are gifts for me, little surprises for the first user, reader, observer, listener. After that, the world can make of my work what it wants.

Truth is, I know my process well; how I work, how I manage the talent, how I get paid (not usually in dollars). Once the process is understood, it can be applied to everything. Knowing yourself, trusting your process, and growing this faith can be applied across all aspects of how you take in the world, synthesize your unique impressions, and communicate back out into that world. If you’re struggling in the chaos in and outside of yourself, let me suggest returning to first principles. Understand what you want to say. I suspect most of what’s wrong out there in the world boils down to undisciplined tongues.