The Traveler and The Maker

Having recently returned from a trip to Japan that was crowded with

the unexpected and the mundane,  I realize there are comparisons to be made between 

being a traveler and a maker.

As travelers, we take only a limited number of personal belongings. We take

the essentials and leave much behind. When we make art, we limit the 

variables. We choose the palette, the cloth, and specific techniques and 

leave other great ideas for the next piece.

When we arrive at our destination, we have a limited structure---a place

to sleep, a map and a plan. We have to contend with the dissonance between

our expectations and the reality of language barriers, alphabet differences,

and unfamiliar social situations as well as less-than-ideal weather. The 

experience draws on the mundane--what we eat, what we see, how we sleep,

and what we notice as well as how we navigate the new landscape.

The limited structure we impose on our project forces us to grapple with

ambiguity, lack of direction, and self doubt. We also have to face the gap

between our vision of the piece and the reality of the completed work.

The work often calls on common-place skills--taking a stitch, cutting or 

dyeing a cloth and pulling a silk screen.

As we explore our port-of-call, we make the effort to embrace the confusion 

that comes with being lost and disoriented. As a result, we are fully

present, engaged in the moment and find our hearts and minds open

to the new and different.

Something similar happens when we make art. We do our best to accept 

the anxiety and self doubt about our ability to create a work that captures

our intended idea. From that acceptance comes a work likely to surprise and 

mystify us. 

Another comparison comes the impermanence of the experience. When 

we travel, we notice so much that is new and wondrous and compelling.

Sometimes we try to hold the sensations with photographs and keepsakes

or drawings and collected artifacts. We use them to cling to the adventure.

When we make art, the creative moment arises from the many directions our 

work can take us. At times, this can be so overwhelming we hold on to all 

our options finding ourselves at a loss to continue.

In both circumstances, we succeed when we recognize the transient

nature of these situations. By definition, being a traveler is a limited event. 

Artists' works are expressions of ideas at a certain time and place with certain

materials that can never be truly reproduced.

Losing our way and finding a new path is part of travel and making. 

Letting go of expectations and allowing the adventure to unfold and 

develop is the beauty of wandering and making art. If we accept the

experiences as fleeting and temporary, we have room to notice the 

change in our perceptions of who we are and the work we create.