20 December, 2024
"The creative process is a process of surrender, not control."
The Printing Process
I put the monoprint back into the flat file drawer with a sigh. It had been in there for a long time, but I still couldn't decide what to do with it. Normally, this happened because I didn't like the print - it was boring, or it just didn't inspire me. But this one was different. The problem was the opposite; I did like it.
OK, let me explain. When I make monoprints, I always make a large number in a couple of sessions over a period of a couple of days. In order to do any printing, I have to move everything in my studio around. I have to pull my press out where I can get to it, set up a couple of tables with plexiglass 'plates', get out all the inks and breyers, find rags, and gather plants and leaves.
Because I don't want to go through all this too often, I make lots and lots of prints, which I can then work on
later to make my mixed media pieces.
Since I don't print that often, I try to make the most efficient use of all my resources, including paper. If I'm not happy with the way a print has turned out, I will sometimes turn it over and use the other side. Waste not, want not, my grandmother used to say - and besides, the printmaking paper I use (Rives BFK 100% cotton archival 280 gsm) is quite expensive.
It's getting to be a challenge finding places to put the prints while they're drying, as my studio continues to fill up with completely important and vital stuff! Last time, I put them on top of the dogs' crates and storage drawers.
"Creativity is a force moving through us, and only through practice do we learn how to cooperate with it. The ‘process’ is like a muscle. It needs to be exercised in order to function effortlessly."
~ Shaun McNiff
A Two-sided Problem
OK, so back to the problem at hand. This particular print was two-sided, and though I don't know how this happened, it turned out that I liked both sides. Try as I might, I could not make up my mind which side to use. One day, it suddenly occurred to me that there might be a way to use both sides.
I have no idea at all where this idea came from, but I thought if I cut the print in half length-wise, and then spliced the ends together, I could make an accordian book with one print (though considerably altered) on each side. I did this, taking care to splice them together as invisibly as I could, so each side would look like one continuous image. (I wish I had photographed some of this, but I was so absorbed in the task, I didn't think of it.)
I then had to do some math to determine how to fold it into (roughly) equal sections. Beyond this, I really had no plan.
"We do not have to know where we are going at the beginning of the creative act. People who control the work in advance are pushing against the grain of creation."
The first 3 panels of side A
Trusting the Process
And as it turned out, not having a plan was actually the way to go. As Shaun McNiff, author of Trust the Process: An Artist's Guide to Letting Go, says, we have to learn to cooperate with the creative force. Cooperate with, not direct. The best metaphor I can come up with is that the creative act is a dance that should not be correographed. The artist has a partner - the creative force, the muse, whatever that is - and sometimes you have to allow that partner to lead.
As artists, I guess we all fight this at times. We want to have a planned outcome, we believe we know where it's going and how best to get there. Yet our truest, most authentic work is often done when we just get out of the way and let it happen. In this case, I think I was just so happy to have figured out a way to use both sides that I didn't even worry about a goal beyond that.
Side A panels 4-7
Letting the Muse Lead
I added a few leaves, and tried to balance the colors so the composition seemed cohesive. Side A was pretty straightforward, but side B was very chaotic and complex. What to leave in, and what to leave out, you know? I don't much like to eliminate anything, but I had to make some sense out of it. As I worked on it, I kept seeing a face on the second panel. Not a human face, but maybe a - female satyr(?) or - something like that.
Well, I thought, there's no plan here, so why not? Trusting the process, I let the Muse take the lead, and a female faun danced herself onto the paper. It was a magical forest, and she was its caretaker.
Side B panels 1-3
Side B panels 4-7
I wanted the book to be able to stand up by itself on a table or mantle, so I attached branch-like sticks at the ends, and was pretty happy with the effect. This way, it could be opened to whatever section or side desired, and the view could be changed at any time.
The creative force had not led me astray, and for once we had cooperated well.
Wishing you all a Blessed Solstice and Happy Holidays from the Muse, the Faun, and me.
You got me at “surrender not control”. Once again your insights help me envision how I might proceed, in art as well as life. Happy holidays! Teri