Inspired by the arrival of a vast and beautiful book of possible source material, we had a fruitful morning in the studio today, creating another series of test images.
Making test images doesn’t always lead to great material – sometimes things misfire or just inexplicably don’t work – but looking back and reflecting on these images often leads to something we might not otherwise have found.
Luckily, a lot of our test material is looking exciting, and sometimes reflecting on the good stuff leads to new finds, too. At this stage, at least, it’s all about the process, innit.
This afternoon we spent some time exploring space. In fact, several spaces, into which our work may pervade. Looking for nooks, crannies, opportunities and suggestions.
It was surprisingly hard work, so the shortbread biscuits afterwards felt well earned.
I seem to be continuously trying to keep the ongoing excitement vs. fear battle in check. Opening all these boxes just lets more and more things out!
Yesterday made our brains explode, so this morning was a bit slow as we tried to negotiate ways around the daunting beast.
We worked independently on a specific task, and although progress was slow and nothing felt very fruitful, one thing led to another we began to get somewhere… Making a start is always the hard bit.
After lunch, and a quick trip to grab more equipment, we made a series of test images.
Day one in the studio. It all feels exciting, and not a little overwhelming. Especially the vast blank potential of these storyboard sheets.
They could contain, well, anything!
Which, in a cyclical kind of way, is why it’s exciting…
“I think traveling is a fundamental cornerstone of personal growth. There are few things I enjoy more than those first days in an unknown city or countryside — where you can feel your memory of that locale being painted with broad, thick strokes of new experience.” – Craig Mod (craigmod.com)
It’s all about the unknown. It’s about the feeling that anything could happen — where anything might be happening already, just around the next corner. Big cities retain that feeling, and remain unknowable; there’s always a new corner to turn or door open.
Fictional cities are built from that feeling. There could be anything behind each closed door.
Just like at the start of any project or creative process. Anything can happen. And as soon as you start, that anything begins to get narrower and narrower, more and more specific, until it becomes something.
Hopefully, that feeling as the unlimited potential diminishes will be balanced by the building excitement of seeing the thing emerge; but conserving that sense of potential isn’t a reason not to start. After all, by the time you’re at the start of your next project, it’s likely that there will be even more potential — expanding out from everything you’ve learned and achieved during the first one.