The Science of Squeezing
A creative workspace is a rather sensitive beast upon which we uncharitably project a variety of unfair expectations. "You must be spacious, that I might create grand things,” we say. “You must be organized, that I don’t have to waste any of my creative energy hunting for paperclips.” And how! “You must be quiet, and smell nice, and be cool in the summer, and cozy in the winter, and of course be within a stomach’s growl of a variety of snacks and the loo.” Hear, hear!
All the while, the workspace sits there and patiently grins until we let it start showing us just what it can do. Like much of life, the more control we try to impose, the more we restrict ourselves from actually achieving anything.
As I am continuing to set up and settle into my new studio, I am having to relearn this lesson just as I have everytime I have moved into a new space. For some reason, the knowledge doesn’t stick and I spend far too much time trying to force something on my workspace before giving up in frustration which is precisely when the studio really comes alive and starts to squeeze and evolve into exactly what I need.
This kind of evolution is evident as I look back at some of my previous studios. Starting in college and in the years to follow, my first couple of studios initially caused me to fret over their perfect arrangement until they eventually settled into a compact but effective space for painting. They were full of various easels and a general gregarious creative and cluttered mess. However, as my interests started shifting toward ink drawings and illustration, my studio slowly adapted and started to behave itself out of respect for the relative cleanliness that working with ink on paper required.
One of the joys of switching my focus to illustration was the realization that I required far less equipment and space. While certainly uncomfortable for someone who likes a routine, the ability to take my work with me when I traveled was a freedom I had not before experienced and which emphasized the point to me that the studio will squeeze in almost anywhere–provided there is an ample light source.
This generous flexibility was never more evident to me than over the course of working on the graphic novel The Hunting Accident from 2013-2016. When I started doing test illustrations for this project, I was living with my friend and his mother. I was working down in a corner of their basement with a drawing board propped up against a workbench converted to desk. After the project began in earnest, though, the author, David Carlson, and I worked out of a large loft space that slowly customized itself into a laboratory for the graphic novel.
I’ve never had such a generous working environment as this studio and probably never will again. In spite of this, during the last year of working on the drawings for the book, I began frequently traveling back and forth between Chicago and Los Angeles. While stressful at first, I became adept at carrying my entire studio with me, and I would set up with my drawing board in airports, coffee shops, and various friend’s houses. I even began carrying around a clip-on gooseneck battery powered LED light to ensure that I could work in any lighting condition.
When I eventually decided to move to Los Angeles, I still had approximately fifty more pages of the book to ink and the place I was staying did not have much space in which to set up a proper studio. I thus created one entirely contained within a fold-up desk set up in the corner of the bedroom.
After all this moving about and letting my studios adapt themselves to the current need, I’m a bit ashamed at how long it is currently taking me to settle into my new studio. I have spent the better part of this past month trying to impose some impossibly perfect vision onto this space and after giving up in exhaustion from my futile efforts, the space is only now finally falling into place by its own volition as it gently pats me on the back and says, “There, there. Why don’t you go find some paperclips while I finish up in here.”
Cemetery Saturday
I took a day-long walk a couple weeks ago in order to clear my head and I stopped at a cemetery in Wheaton, Illinois for a break. I was there once before during the pandemic but I hadn’t explored the entirety of it. I stumbled upon this double arched gravestone and couldn’t remember ever having seen one quite like it before. Even single arched gravestones are somewhat of a rarity so I thought this one deserved a drawing. The second drawing with the large mushrooms is from a recent excursion to Forest Home Cemetery, one of my most frequented cemeteries located in Forest Park, Illinois.
Back to the Sketchbook
One of the joys of starting this newsletter and posting less frequently on social media is that I haven’t been afraid to spend more time simply sketching from other illustrator’s I admire, rather than feeling like I always have to create new content. For me, attempting to copy another illustrator’s work is the most productive form of learning how to draw. By copying, you are forced to analyze and deconstruct another person’s technique which teaches you new ways to solve visual problems that you wouldn’t have come up with on your own.
CAKE in the Dark
This past weekend I had a table at CAKE (Chicago Alternative Komics Expo). This was the first comics show I ever visited, back in 2012, and it has long been one of my favourites to exhibit at. The crowd of visitors as well as the breadth of exhibitors are always wonderful to interact with.
This year’s show had a few snags–most notably the lack of light on the first floor and the need of battery-powered supplements–but it was still a wonderful weekend. I was fortunate to be tabling next to Karl Stevens and Eddie Campbell, both of whom are world class crosshatchers that I deeply admire. In light of this–or rather in the lacking light–someone dubbed our little stretch of tables “Crosshatcher’s Row.”
State of the Head
Eddie Campbell's daughter Hayley, recently read her book 'All the Living and the Dead.' Great newsletter
A shoutout from Glasgow. Excellent post as always. x