so…I hate precision

So, it starts with me hating precision.  I don’t hate things that are precise, but for me, achieving precision in the visual sense has always seemed like the most wrong idea I could come across. Probably wrong in the sense that I was afraid of it.  If I ever made a painting, the painting ended in 2 scenarios. The first being, that I was so excited to start the painting, the same excitement would ignite me to finish it, and I would rush through it, with decisions that I wasn’t necessarily aiming for, and it turn into just crazy.  I use crazy as a noun.  Just plain crazy.  The second scenario would be me trying to hard to do this painting according to my original intentions that I would just get so bored of holding on to a patience that wasn’t natural, I just wouldn’t finish the painting.  There’s more than enough examples of my work that has gone unfinished out of a boredom or out of thinking that one day I would be inspired as I was that day and I would magically finish the painting.  Whatever that means.  It hasn’t happened yet.  The woman who’s hand was supposed to be painted 2 years ago, still doesn’t have a hand, or the background I intended her to have.

So I was afraid of being precise.  Maybe lazy?  Maybe I just don’t understand that my work is my work and I can’t convince myself that a painting has to be finished.  I don’t know what I’m saying.  But anyway, a lot of rash decisions have come from wanting to be finished with something that has always turned into not being precise.  Even in junior high when I didn’t want to do a math problem, I genuinely thought I could fool my teacher by giving an answer that looked like different transvestite numbers that where as interchangeable as the giant digital thermometer outside of the bank, even though my numbers were clearly written in purple ink on a stagnant piece of yellowed wide rule paper.  But I knew they could see through my charade, but I still did it.  I was never good at math until Mrs. August convinced me that numbers can’t change when you write them down on paper, copying them from  your math book.  Somehow I started actually enjoying calculus in college, so maybe precision was getting on my good side, but probably only with numbers.

If I decide to straighten my hair, the left side of my head totally gets neglected, out of laziness?  I’m not sure, but I always hate how much puffier the left side is than the right, and I rarely do anything about it.  I hate precision and somehow I’ve come to hate the results of being imprecise.  I can’t go into how much this has transformed going from art school to architecture school, but there will be more than enough posts dedicated to it.

On a good side note, that I hope I’m not imprecise with, my friend jo and I are beginning documentation of Greg Lynn’s new exhibit at sciarc.  We’re the official bloggers for the entire project, so I’ll be putting up a link for the site soon.  It’s pretty exciting actually.

---