Practice

A word of warning: I suspect this is going to be a rambling sort of post. I'm not sure that I'll edit it (much). I don't think my thoughts warrant an extra effort to be concise, especially because I don't have a persuasive argument to present. I have a jumble of thoughts. You might want to get a cup of coffee or some peanut butter toast before you start reading. This journey might require a bit of protein, if you want to read all this. In fact, I think I'll go toast an english muffin myself. I'll meet you back here.

ready? here we go...

I'm not a big fan of New Year's Resolutions. Somehow, they seem more a set up for failure than other goals. Maybe because we all forgive failed resolutions so easily and let them go rather than refocusing when we veer off the track we're trying to follow. But, this year, I read a few blogs that talked about picking a theme on which to focus for the coming year. That seemed like a good idea to me, sort of a touchstone for the year. My word took a few weeks to come to me and then morphed a few weeks later. The thing I've been hardest on myself about (but not actually improving) is finishing things. I start something, often get it almost done (a sweater all knit, assembled, blocked, but missing the buttons, for example), but fail to finish it and let it go. It's not limited to gifts, but they seem to bother me most. Hardest to let go, but most frustrating that I can't. I think it is related to my perfectionism, but I suspect there's something else going on. Regardless, I needed a kick in the ..... So, the word "FINISH" seemed like a good one. Over time, it shifted in my head to "COMPLETE." I don't know why that feels better to me, but it does. It seems more positive, something becoming whole rather than ending.

(I struggle with endings. When I love a book, I find myself missing the characters long after I read the final words. Hence, I like to find series of books well after the first was written so I can prolong my active 'relationship' with the characters.)

At work, we've been doing our HR required goal setting. I included 'develop my hand drawing/rendering skills.' The more hours I spend doing my job through a computer, the less comfortable I am drawing by hand. MDT did a sketching workshop at our retreat this year. It was really good, but mostly reminded me that I am really rusty and for many reasons want to get those brain cells and muscles working again. Honestly, I don't think I was ever especially talented at it, but I was much less hesitant to try.

I stopped by a bookstore last night and bought Danny Gregory's The Creative License. I skimmed a good chunk of it before I took it to the counter. I hadn't been sure that it would be the book for me, but in fact it felt like a really good place to (re)start. After dinner, I started reading in earnest. D.G. likens learning to draw to learning to drive. There are several points where he reminds you not to read ahead. Start at the beginning and go in order so as not to get overwhelmed (or hurt someone - myself in the case of drawing). After some good introductory information, he gives a list of 4 items to draw. Don't jump ahead, date the drawings.... Last night I drew the first: a chair. When I finished (well, stopped), I wrote at the top of the page, "before you complete something, you have to BEGIN." Then, I closed my sketchbook and went to bed.

This morning, I got up, made coffee, knit for a while, poured myself a cup and sat down with #2: a mug. At the top of that page, I wrote, "...even if what you begin you hope never to be done with." (the two pages face each other)

(For the record, I'm not going to share visuals of this drawing journey I've begun. My Inner Critic is excruciatingly well-developed. While I work at silencing her and then retraining her to offer only helpful, constructive criticism, I refuse to offer her the opportunity to be awakened by public commentary. I have found that my particular I.C. demon feeds just as well on praise as critiques so I must deny her both.)

As I closed my sketchbook and picked up my knitting, the word "practice" flitted through my head. I thought about Rob updating me on his martial arts required "standing practice." Standing. It seems such a fundamental skill at first, but pause a minute and check your posture. You're at your computer; I bet you're a fair amount out of alignment. As an author, Rob spends a lot of time in that position. But a few minutes everyday practicing standing, being aware of the alignment of his body, adjusting the bits that hurt to a better position, has made him more aware of his posture in front of the computer. Stronger, less pain, more flexibility, and, eventually I suppose, in supreme fighting shape, though I hope that's for defense and/or research.

Next, I discovered the new episode of Cast On is up, and even though I'm saving the listening, I looked at the show notes. There was a link to WI Public Radio's To the Best of our Knowledge (a December episode about Craft). I subscribed (because the host, Jim Fleming, was my first crush when I was six and woke to his classical music program on my clock radio every morning - yes, I am that nerdy). Then, I figured out how to listen to the old episode. There was an interview with the author of The Craftsman. He talked about the problem with the popular notion that craft is something anyone/the masses can do and Art is something only someone really spectacular can do. It devalues Craft, the doing of something with care, thought/mindfulness and skill. (Me, I'm a big fan of Craft.) He mentioned the 10,000 hour rule. (I googled that and came up with a lot of links to Malcom Gladwell's, The Outliers.) The premise as Sennett described it is that it takes about 10,000 hours to get so good at something you can do it with confidence and without thinking too much about it. I've been knitting seriously (though not around the clock) for nearly 25 years (yikes!). I suspect I've logged well over the 10,000 hours at that, without really thinking about it. I love to knit and I love that there is still much to learn, but I also know enough that the fundamentals are second nature and I am confident to modify a pattern to suit my needs/preferences if I really want to do it my way instead of following the designer's in order to understand another facet of this craft.

I want to get to that feeling with drawing (and a few other things, but this post is plenty long enough). I want to have a pen in my hand and just start drawing whatever is nearby (or in my head) without really thinking about it and without worrying what those around me will think of it, much the way when there are needles and yarn in front of me, I start casting on without a conscious consideration of how to hold the yarn or form those first loops.

10,00o hours? Knowing that number feels a bit like I read ahead and got overwhelmed. But, you can't get to 10,000 hours without the first 15 minutes. I'm not going to log the time. That number is too daunting for me to do that. And, like knitting, I don't intend to stop when I get there. So, I will practice. And I will remind myself that it's a lot of hours before it's easy, but there will be steady progress if I keep it up. Practice.

and practice may lead to a little completion...