Trust The Process
I was recently asked “what’s your process?”
to simply put, my process is play— it’s effortless and innocent. with the only expectation being, to extract the most out of each moment, i am completely present when i’m playing. the cartwheel emoji is by my favorite for this same reason, it serves as a reminder to allow for bursts of random happiness in every day.
i am fully submerged in my own world when i’m playing in my studio. surrounded by a wide range of materials, found imagery, books, post-it notes and a cup of tea (always). i see possibilities through piles of tangled mistakes, stacks of sparkly goodness, coincidental color schemes, or ‘the works’ as i like to put it. occasionally my eyes glance upon the shelf of past work and unfinished designs— of which i’m often wide-eyed, when i recognize that i’m evolving a design from the past. (don’t throw away your work! )
sometimes i won’t even ‘play’ at all, i’ll spend hours rummaging and sorting through all my materials— it’s in those moments of discovery and clean-up that i find new inspiration. i’ve always preferred quiet work with busy hands. my family can attest to this, as a little girl, they’d find me in some remote corner of the house, playing quietly.
for someone who appreciates structure in a work environment— chalk that up to the prominent virgo placement in my chart; i certainly draw outside the lines when i’m creating. in my studio the only structure i want are the four walls that encompass this ‘playground,’ there are no pressing deadlines or tasks. while my creations follow some principles of design, they’re far more intuitively designed then abiding by any concepts.
i trust my process because i know that whatever the outcome will be, it will be one that i created— seen in a dream or drafted in my imagination but always created with my hands. this medium has allowed me to cultivate an environment where everything is possible.
“TRUST THE PROCESS!” is written in bold marker on a post-it note above my play space because when restlessness and worry strike (and they often do)— i need to only recall that i am simply playing; therefore the result is not nearly as important as the playtime it took to create.
