A few years have passed by while procrastinating opening up to the process of slip transfer drawing, a neat little trick we touched on briefly a decade back when trying to guess at how Forrest Middleton was creating his surfaces. The excuse that I was relying on to not give it a real try was recently dismissed as a moot point, being that I could no longer reason that “I can’t draw”. After spending a year and a half drawing nearly everyday, I can draw well enough to match the chore at hand and the chore at hand in this case is haptic by nature.
At this point, I can draw well enough to explore the process and develop composional ideas. It’s easy to get carried away in the moment and either take a design too far or not far enough. A large part of this exercise is to give in an allow intuition to take the lead and see what happens. The challenges that pop up provide opportunities for creative problem solving and the failures are lessons that provide direction.
One of the issues that I’m struggling with has nothing to do directly with the process itself and instead touches on identity… do these objects have an identity independent of the maker? Do they need to be attached to a personality or a brand to realize the worth attributed to them or can they stand on their own? Despite enjoying the process and the works, do I want to be known for making these?
I know the work will generally stand up just fine. It’s solid craftsmanship. It doesn’t need me to say that it is to make it so. I just don’t think it will be able to be seen. These are meant to be quiet objects, and they are in comparison to much of what is being offered, but when held individually, they are obnoxious.
Do I want to be known for making these?… I’ll stand with my work, but I’ll work to make sure it’s not what defines me.
Zygote Blum 