A vaguely vexing discovery
I’ve recently found, after taking a moment to reflect on my past works, that of all the things I’ve made, the items I’m most proud of are the ones I’ve created while working without a plan. Apparently, if I have a plan in mind and stick to it, the thing I end up with is nice; but if I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing and act with naught but the guiding light of “**** it, why not?”, what I make turns out ****ing epic.
No clue why, but it’s a documented phenomenon. Sort of like how my work actually improves when obstacles and limitations (in time, materials, ect) are foisted on me. (Don’t understand that one either.)
This raises a few questions for me, such as “What the hell?” and more helpfully “What does this mean for my skills?” Why is it that, despite the effort and thought I put into my designs, it’s the ones where I stared vacantly at fabric bits for a few minutes then started putting them together that really shine? Does this make me an utterly useless artist or an unspeakably brilliant one? (Don’t answer that.)
I need to ponder this a bit longer so I can get it and use the understanding to my advantage. Improve myself with this bizarre discovery and determine if I need to spend a larger portion of my time zoning out whilst I stare at cloth.