Little Nonsense Scrap Notes

Birdhouses. How many layers here? Quietness. Stillness. Where is that sound? Dangling a carrot. Chasing a carrot? This looks like mud. I love mud.

It sounds like nonsense. Most of the time it is nonsense. But out of the nonsense comes a deeper understanding of what I’m doing and the words to use to describe it to others.  These are extracts from the note-scraps I keep next to my pieces as I work.

I keep these note-scraps next to pieces as I work on them; I put a little paint down, think of a concept, scribble it out. Put a little more paint down, see a figure emerge from the swirling pool, name her and write it down. Layer cut pieces of paper and see a canyon - write that down.

Little scribbly clues for later.

What results is a running ‘stream of consciousness’ that serve as titles, as notes for me to refer to when describing the piece, as a marker of time. They become an invaluable addendum to the finished piece.

I do these on scrap to keep them immediate, truthful and non-precious. If I feel like I need to censor what I write to keep it organized, or legible to someone else I’m not able to get the dialogue I need to find the name of the piece or get at the inner bits of the idea I’m digging into.

Once the piece is finished, a description is written and the title fits - these little scraps head to the second drawer of my flat file. I pull them out from time to time to see if any new inspiration strikes, or if there’s an idea I wrote down that I haven’t explored yet - but for the most part their job is done.