Very Curious Mind/ Under Construction

Words

What you're looking at here is a place for my occasional casual writing.

My relationship with writing is long -- you can see my properly published articles and essays here -- and complicated. There are seasons where I feel very "writer-y" and those that I don't. So expect long pauses in updates, satisfaction certainly not guaranteed.

Planning Ahead v. Pure Spontaneity?

Despite my improvisational leanings, the Martha Stewart side of my personality can get seduced by the idea of planning.

In February, I read The Art of Embroidery Design by Christi Johnson. It’s a great book and I recommend it. She has a great attitude about embroidery, not “clenchy” or perfectionistic at all. But, as implied by the name, she does suggest a planning process that was loose enough to intrigue me, and tenable because it was a plan that I was making for myself rather than setting up a set of speculative expectations.

It involved using Procreate to sketch a loose stitch plan on top of reference or sketch. I really liked this idea and definitely wanted to try it.

This was one of the experiments I tried for seduced by the idea of planning, and I actually used it in two of the prompts — for “Neighborhood” and “Tiger.”

For both, I used my sketchbook and art journals as as direct inspiration*, and I also sketched things out loosely in Procreate.

Experiment One: The Neighborhood

Left to right: My original art journal page, my digital sketch, the final embroidery.

For the “neighborhood” prompt, this was my process: I sketched on a layer on top of a photo of my original, and then added another layer on top of that to indicate which embroidery stitches I wanted to use. (If you aren’t familiar with layers, think of them like digital tracing paper.)

What did I learn ?

  • I didn’t find the process of planning unpleasant. In fact, it was fun. I like an opportunity to thoughtfully engage with my work.

  • The attitude I brought with me to the planning process mattered a lot— I had full permission to subtract/add/multiply/ forget the whole thing when I was stitching.

  • Which is sort of what happened...

  • …and The Embroidery Police didn’t knock down my door!

  • I made a basic mistake here which is probably obvious to you visually: the dimensions of my sketch were the same as my original piece, rather than the dimensions of the fabric I wanted to use. This made the composition I’d worked out in the sketch practically useless.

  • But even if I had used the correct dimensions in the sketch, there would have been another downfall. I was also experimenting with bringing in a dimensional embroidered technique on the houses — and I didn’t realize it would be difficult to make them as small as I’d imagined them when I did the sketch.

Doing this light bit of planning did help me to arrive at some choices that I felt good about, and that I don’t think I’d have arrived at otherwise.

For instance, when I was sketching from my original, I realized that I was particularly enjoying the black and white patterning contrasted against the brightly colored house.

Although it clearly took a different spin in the embroidered piece, I committed to that monochrome color palette in the background — an extremely atypical choice for me! And while I didn’t use the exact stitches in the places I thought I would, and I added others, the textural complexity I was envisioning did happen.

Experiment Two: The Tiger

For the next prompt, which was “tiger” I applied the lessons I learned in the “neighborhood” piece.

The planning process I used was essentially the same. The main difference was that I used several different pages from various art journals/sketchbooks rather than one. (I imported each into Procreate on its own layer.) And critically, this time I used a document of the same proportions of the fabric I planned to use!

Original art journal and sketch book pages:

Digital sketch and final piece:

What I learned:

  • As suspected and as is obvious: planning in the dimensions I planned to use made my compositional plan more useful!

  • Treating the plan I’d arrived at as a suggestion rather than an edict is also key: the tiger is on the other side of the tree, there is one fish instead of two, I added the green base to the tree etc.

  • Also, the energy I have when I’m planning may not be the same as when I’m executing — and that’s ok! My sketch called for bands of satin stitch in the background, which would have taken roughly forever and a day. By the time I got to stitching, perhaps a day or two later, I had ideas for other projects and wanted to move things along. So, fabric stash to the rescue! I appliqued fabric for the background and although the effect is different I am pleased with the results. N.B. I acquired the gold sequins you see here already attached to a scrap of fabric, or otherwise instead of writing this to you I’d still be applying them to this piece.

  • Similarly, the plan is a moment in a time and may not capture my interests at the time I’m sitting down to work. In the delta between sketching and stitching, I got interested in adding crocheted elements to my embroideries, thus the crocheted lilac bit above the “water.” I did feel a little twinge of, oh I can’t do this, it’s not in my plan — but then I realized, all rules are a fantasy when it coes to art. (And apparently everywhere else these days.)

Am I Now a Planner Ahead-er?

Overall, I’m happy with the way both of these piece turned out, I still learned a lot in the process of making them.

There is no control in the experiment but I suspect both would have looked a bit different if I had just jumped in and felt my way around. I also suspect both would have taken longer if I’d worked things out as I went.

Did I feel “clenchy” while following my plan?

Not catastrophically so, I wasn’t in misery. But it did add a frisson of tension to the experience of making.

It also did take away a bit from the sense of discovery I usually have in my work. When I’m operating without a plan, I often have a moment where it feels like the piece is such an irretrievable mess that I will no doubt have to bury it in the backyard when it’s finished.

That doesn’t feel fab, but it really does feel amazing when I figure out a solution. There were smaller moments like that in both of these pieces, but in neither did I feel the exhilaration of working without a net.

Bottom line: there are times when I need to make a plan for my visual art, and the lessons I’ve learned in these experiments will be very useful for me. There are also times that I just feel like playing with Procreate, the process of planning in itself is absorbing in its own way.

This was all good to know! And, as a matter of policy, I won’t be changing my improvisational ways any time soon.

Note: This is part of a small series reflecting on a month of embroidery experiments. . The next part looks at technical learnings.