The Art of Creating Under Pressure
Last week, I snuck into my basement studio to make a collage while my son watched television upstairs. I knew I had about thirty minutes before he got bored and came looking for me.
My table was covered in papers from various printmaking and collage sessions that had never been cleaned up (see first sentence for the reason). I pulled out a piece of 9” x 12” watercolor paper and made some space by pushing everything to the side.
I relied on paper scraps for this collage because they were everywhere. There was also a piece of a vintage, fabric-backed map that I’d just picked up that week and was still trying to figure out how best to use.
I was gluing as I composed, so many of my choices were based on what I didn’t like and needed to cover up with something else. I started to focus on the words on the map, and soon a phrase, “The Wolf Came for Her at Breakfast” was on repeat in my head.
Things really got interesting when my son came downstairs to find out when I would be done. He’s learned that when I say I have to glue down one more piece, I don’t really mean that. (I really mean that I have to glue down the one already in my hand and then a few more).
He found a tennis racket and a bag of ping-pong balls and started hitting them. Ping-pong balls were soon zinging over my head and under my feet. I mostly ignored the distraction, happy he’d found something to entertain himself and earn me a few more precious minutes. When one of the balls came perilously close to breaking something, I declared the collage complete. The brush went back into the jam jar, the papers were still everywhere, and I left the collage drying on the table.
Almost everything I made this summer was done under similar, time-pressured, distracted circumstances. Honestly, it probably would have been easier to have thrown up my hands and declared that I would make no art until the fall. But that would have been no fun at all and I think that working under pressure forces me to make compositional decisions that I wouldn’t usually make, making my art more interesting.
I learned this summer that I could create new work and complete business tasks, but it was hard. I needed to be ready whenever time appeared and not use that time for chores. Next summer, I’ll be ready.
He’d just been to the market and picked up croissants and coffee. Cream no sugar drip for him and a double espresso for her.
The plan was to pack the truck with camping gear and take the 84 up to the Birch Swamp for a few nights.
If all went well with the weather, they’d see the Northern Lights. It would probably rain.