"One of the techniques I use to guide students through a block is to ask them to name two or three things they could easily add to the picture. A lot of times they will nod their heads as they think of ideas but don’t tell me what they are.
It isn’t that I have to know everything; rather, the possibilities need to be said aloud. Keeping the thoughts inside the head does not engage the imagining brain in the same way as when we put the words out there.
I believe this is like turning a paint blob into a definite image. As long as the stroke remains nebulous, there is only so much we can interact with it. Once we make it into something, we can have a reaction to it and then go deeper. So it is with ideas--once we say our ideas out loud, they have substance. The words themselves become bridges to the next thought and the one after that.
Just as important, once we say something out loud, it can’t be taken back. That may be why my invitations to play what-if games are often met with resistance. I think it stems from shyness or fear that what’s said off the cuff could be a mistake or sound foolish, bad, ugly,mean--any number of unwanted possibilities.
My take on this is that we expend a lot of energy in the everyday trying to say the right thing, on being politic and trying to please and take care of others. There needs to be a safe space to lift the filter and let the imagination go, even if the results aren’t out of Miss Manner’s playbook.
The truth is, letting yourself spout whatever comes to mind is just playful and funny, not usually taboo. There might be more we can do with an image and we can spark those ideas by asking certain questions, such as:
What could it be holding?
What could be standing behind it?
If it had a hole in the top of its head, what could we see inside, coming out, or going in?
I want students to just let their minds go with as little monitoring as possible. The answers don’t have to make sense, and it also doesn’t matter whether they are simple or extreme. As words first spill out, they may feel too prescribed or forced, but then something else may emerge. Suddenly an idea you hadn’t any clue existed pops up, and it has energy or it’s very funny or you feel excited about it.
And that’s the thing you paint.
This takes practice. Just as there is training involved for the eye to see images in a blob, brainstorming possible ideas out loud takes discipline as well."
Our family has a phrase we use that grew out of younger SonM’s experience of riding around with his grandma (my mom) in the backseat of her silver Buick LaSabre whenever she’d pick him up or take him or one of the other grandchildren somewhere. She (who was fond of control) would always lock the windows, so there’d be no fooling around or in her words, “monkeying with the switches”.
Thankfully all the monkeying with the switches he was allowed to do in our home school environment, along with the building up and tearing down, experimentation, and observation, analysis and problem solving, taking new ideas into account and honoring those that withstood the test of time, yielded good results. All of which makes me wonder if the extreme right/wrongisms and group-think in evidence today may in part be the result of a system of education that did not allow enough opportunity for students to monkey around with the switches. Interesting too, is the idea of speaking out as the antidote to moving through a block.
Once again, I post this at the risk of encouraging Trooper York, who already provides plenty of invitations and opportunities to consider what might be coming in or out of an imagined hole. However, his second revision of The Song of the Mischievous Dog, also serves as an excellent example of a creative redo with more energy and point!
And for all who post here on one topic or another, I offer this encouragement during a time when masking, cover-up and cancellation seem to be taking precedence: Keep engaging the imagining brain and putting the words out there. "Make visible what, without you, might never have been seen"--Robert Bresson, French Film Director.
3 comments:
This post prompts a couple of stories - first, when my father got a new job in 1955 we moved to a small town and my pop's new employer loaded my whole family in his brand new Cadillac and we rode in the 4th of July parade, which, in those days, in small town America, was a big deal. I remember being amazed with the power windows in that wonderful huge car and I played with the switches - window up, window down, hand slapped, fun over. That was great fun for a five year old, while it lasted.
And Luc Besson - what a film maker - The Sixth Element is one of my favorites - he created and populated an entire galaxy and brought the whole thing to life. What's that? Robert Bresson? Never mind - even though both of them are French their styles are, apparently, polar opposites. I say "apparently" because I don't think I have ever seen a Bresson film. Hmm...
He made one, entitled in French, "Un condamné à mort s'est échappé ou Le vent souffle où il veut", which became, in English, "A Man Escaped". Hmm... With a soufflé in there and a vent I thought this was a chef movie. Wrong again! Strike two!
But back to the subject at hand - being creative and getting unstuck. That continues to be a relevant topic around here and I keep making things, slowly, but sometimes I wonder if it is time to switch gears completely. With that in mind I have been doing some drawings, nothing wonderful, just working on freeing up my hand and letting the lines flow. That is not easy. In fact, it can be a real challenge. But what else are you going to do under house arrest, eh?
Good post, MamaM, as always. Thank you.
"Make visible what, without you, might never have been seen"
In a couple weeks hence, I'm meeting with my older brother to plan a book about our father and his early influence on Wisconsin scuba diving and underwater photography. My brother has the bulk of the photos and I have the will and drive. We both share the memories which must be recorded lest they be lost.
I replaced several motors and switches on my late '63 T-Bird's power windows. Rather simple to do once you got your hands on a proper shop manual. I honestly can't recall the first time I played with power windows. My dad's 1973 Mustang convertible may have been the first family car that had them. But that car wasn't really a "family" car; it was his baby -- his dream car. I wasn't even allowed to drive it. It was a parade car though, and he drove it every year in the local parade.
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