I do a lot of research, in a loose sense of the word. To an artist everything is research. Looking out the window at the way the clouds move behind the trees is research. Looking at another person's art is research. I am also innately curious and almost obsessed with earth sciences and astronomy from a layperson's perspective. On top of that, I'm very interested in diet, exercise, the human body, health, natural medicine and "primal" eating and lifestyle.
(An example of how I aspire to eat. I nicknamed it the "Privileged American diet", because it's expensive and based on a society of plenty. But I'm a privileged American and my doctor told me to eat this way to get my blood sugar down. It's not my fault sugar and grain are the cheapest sources of calories.)
Out of necessity, I began to research the "barefoot running" fad after I discovered my feet don't hurt as much when I am barefoot, and I started making my own shoes because the fad is new enough that the shoes are all expensive and I can't find what I need. I am interested in homesteading skills like food preservation, gardening, survival skills and general DIY. I'm incredibly fascinated by dystopian fiction and the science, sociology, and cultural consciousness that inspire it. I think about ancient mythology and how it relates to our lives, how we as humans use archetypes, the kinds of stories that are told throughout human history and the similarities in the way the stories are told. My background, personality, personal history, and the environment I live in are all intrinsically tied to what I do and how. I probably spend about 10 hours a week absorbing information that I can definitively call research and cite. This ranges from watching science documentaries while I go to sleep (they help me sleep, that's probably worth it's own blog post) to listening to audiobooks while I work in the studio.
(Viking turnshoes and one of many tutorials on how to make them. )
(earth 2100, a sensationalist ABC documentary about a worst case scenario of what could happen to our world if we don't make some changes as a species. Includes badly flash animated but aesthetically pleasing fictional story to illustrate the points they make. I found it incredibly compelling even though it was clearly sensational and over the top.)
Most of the research I do, I would do whether I was in school or not, but I'm approaching it differently now. I'll be analyzing what I look at in a cultural as well as personal context, I'll be organizing my research into categories, and of course I'll be keeping a bibliography and keeping track of who, what, when, where, why and how of what I research. My categories will include general animation; storytelling and artistic techniques; music video; film theory; mythology; dystopian, apocalyptic, utopian and futuristic fiction and nonfiction; and personal context. I will also be looking at the psychology, philosophy and sociology behind these things, if possible.
(After the End: Representations of Post Apocalypse by James Berger. I haven't started reading it yet.)
Throughout my blog, I embed links within the text for context (they look like this). It is the reader's responsibility to click on them, because I use them in lieu of a description. I'm already writing twice as many words as I'm required to, if not more. I will also try to cite the most important sources in formal bibliographic form at the bottom of my posts from now on.
Mostly, I need to remember the reason behind the impetus to study art and design in the first place. To take such a risk as to go deeply in debt to study a subject that has no economic security in an economic downturn, I have to have a really strong reason. These reasons are not rational at all, and though I will attempt to make my research rational, the work I do will not be based on logic or rationality. As many artists, I have an intense drive to create. So intense, I'm willing to risk my own financial security despite knowing what financial insecurity looks like. I grew up with nothing. I've been hungry and homeless, I've struggled through low wage jobs, family dysfunction and illness all at the same time. I've been through hell, and I know that my current life is not guaranteed. I'm risking the possibility of falling back into that desperate world, of working low wage office jobs to get by just so I can get better at my art. It's a huge risk, and I've known it all my life. But the impetus to do this is so intense, I feel that I have no choice. It is what gives my life meaning, without which there is no point.
Therefore, what I do as an artist HAS to be authentic, otherwise I'm doing this all for nothing. Why go through all of this only to do something that I don't believe in? Why risk everything only to lose sight of why I'm doing this in the first place? I'm doing art so that I can make use of these things I'm compelled to do on an intuitive level. I was raised to trust my instincts, and when I don't, I've always regretted it. So the inspiration for all my artwork, whether I'm working for a client or not, will be guided by this instinct. It's not conceptual thought that I work from, it's gut feeling, because gut feeling is what I'm trying to process and portray. I can ask myself why I have an instinct, use it as a point of inquiry, follow it until it no longer serves it's purpose and find another path, but I have to follow the original intuition to get there.
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