I Rarely Know Exactly What a Wreath Will Look Like When I Start
There's a version of how creative work is supposed to happen: you have an idea, you sketch it out, you gather your materials, you execute the plan. Tidy. Reproducible. Looks good in a tutorial.
That's not really how it goes for me.
Most of the time I start with a feeling, or a material. Sometimes it's a piece of ribbon I picked up without a specific project in mind. Sometimes it's something I spotted in my stash that suddenly looked different than it did six months ago — same ribbon, different eye. Sometimes it's not even a color. I know the general mood I'm after. Warm and moody? Cool and formal? Saturated and a little wild?
I may not know what the finished piece will look like yet. That's fine.
All my pieces tend to start this way.
So when I started this piece, all I really had was a pink wreath I was committed to and a vague sense that eventually I would know what to do with it.
That was the plan.
What actually happened
It would be 18 months before the design fully revealed itself to me.
Yep, that wreath was on my wall above my desk, patiently waiting for 18 months.
And the design only came after I purchased the nutcracker for the Traditional Tartan wreath. Something about him made me look at that pink wreath differently.
Trying things, moving things, and — yes — at one point there were drums involved.
Next thing I know, I'm pulling ribbon, ornaments and snowflakes, trying things, taking things back out — at one point there were even drums involved — and somehow I have a whole Nutcracker collection.
My creative process is funny that way.
On designing without a fixed plan
I used to think there was something I was missing when I couldn't just plan it out and follow through. Like having a blueprint was the real skill, and what I was doing was a messier, less disciplined version of the same thing.
Now I think working from mood and instinct is its own skill. It just doesn't look like one from the outside.
It looks like puttering. It looks like a lot of standing with your arms crossed, staring at something on the worktable, slightly irritated.
What's actually happening is a lot of trying things, looking at them, moving them, and sometimes changing my mind completely. I may start with an idea, but I'm not loyal to it just because it came first. If the piece is telling me something else works better, I'm going with that.
Sometimes the process takes an afternoon.
Apparently, sometimes it takes 18 months.
I may come back to how I know when a piece is actually finished. Because "I just know" isn't particularly helpful.
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