Observation journal — practical application

This page of the observation journal is me playing with some discoveries from previous pages.

It’s a follow-up to the last post (Observation journal — paired points). I was again going back to the earlier exercise on points of habit and resistance. It’s interesting tracing these explorations and variations through the journal.

I gave myself the task of inventing a pattern (a fairly common occurrence, given the calendar art). Then I picked at random some of the flipped habits, and applied them to the task — getting close to fairy tales where I could.

It was fun to do, but also interesting to see what fell out of the process. They are as follows:

• Pulling petals off the flower for “whole/fragments”. I like the simplicity with which this one varied the pattern.
• Doing — I think — aggravated deities for “body language” (I’d been listening to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and if you like a gif reaction thread, here’s mine). Funny, but energetic.
• Swapping stereotypes/archetypes (I can’t remember what they all started as, but there’s definitely a man with great boots dressing a cat in fancy clothes — as ever, the Caudwell Manoeuvre is relevant). I like it, but it heads straight into new story territory, which might be more than is needed for a repeating pattern.
• Choosing a random Wikipedia topic (something about swimming). A classic.
• Setting it to a song (“My Queen Bee”, having just watched Emma., which previously featured here: Observation Journal — The Emma heist and concert strategies).
• Asking “whose POV” which somehow became about chairs. But tumbling them around added a lot of interest to a pattern.
• Introducing a time limit. This is the sort of prompt that obviously does interesting things to a written story (adding a race against time). But it also adds some impetus to a drawing. I’d already covered body language, above, so the idea evolved into a claustrophobia/panic dream of underground station staircases.
• Novelise (+POV). I… have no idea what this was. It has a bit of Cinderella and My Fair Lady, but that can’t have been the starting point.
• Trope. Again, I wish I’d written it down! Something about vigorous family games in historical novels.

The cow and the ragged girl with the stars are giving me strong Mary Poppins vibes, but I simply don’t remember. There might have been something Little Matchgirl-ish going on, but once you flip a thing it heads off into its own story.

What I noticed about myself from this page was that I still tried to force everything to become a story. Having the “pattern” limitation helped moderate that impulse. Also: drawing is a fabulous way to work through an idea, but written notes are far better at capturing the thought process.

Looking back at it now, I can also see a few lessons about what makes a pattern pleasing to me:

• It’s nice when the repeating of a pattern makes sense (or at least if the pattern doesn’t make the viewer wonder too much about why these things are here, recurring).
• Too much energy (narrative or otherwise) can distract from the smooth operation of a pattern (if not handled judiciously). I tend to prefer some vivacity in my pieces if I consider them just as an illustration, but more soothing compositions give a more classic feeling.
• Simplicity can be pleasing, but it’s not my natural state. See the point above.
• Different angles on a thing (e.g. chairs) adds depth and variation to a pattern while keeping the selection of objects to a minimum.
• Patterns are a great place to play with variations on a motif (not news, but confirmation).

Exercise for writers/artists — originally from Points of habit and resistance.

1. Look back at your work: the sum total of it, or comments you’ve received, or a piece that you’re working on at the moment.
2. Look for patterns and habits. If you’re looking at one piece, what are some distinctive features? Lyricism? Vigour? Tiny pen marks? Make a list.
3. Now flip the list. Think of opposite(s) for each item. (Hardboiled prose? Calm? Bold brush strokes?)
4. Try applying a few of those approaches to your work — a sketch or a paragraph, new or existing (or rework a piece by somebody else, as a way to study it closely).
5. What do you notice about what you resist, and why? What changes?