If only I had more space. I’d be able to store more supplies and have a separate place for digital and physical work. I’d keep things in more easily accessible ways so I could maintain my flow state. I’d be able to store different types of paper, and play more expressively with acrylics, and paint in oils because I’d have room to let them dry.
But, I used to say this sort of thing in the previous place we lived, which is much smaller than the one we live in right now. So, compared to that, now I’ve got heaps of space. And so I can’t help but think that maybe what I need isn’t more space, but to think differently about what I’ve got. It seems that no matter how much space we have to make our work, we’ll always want more because the more we have, the more we fill it. The problem with more options is that, beyond a certain number, we tend to be overwhelmed by them and end up not doing anything at all. There’s a name for this, it’s called the Paradox of Choice.
In 2000, a study was conducted about the paradox of choice. Researchers set up a market stall with 24 kinds of jam for sale. They gave samplers a $1 coupon off any jam. On a different day, shoppers saw a market stall with only 6 kinds of jam instead of the 24 from the previous day. The larger display attracted more samplers but ultimately led to fewer sales than the smaller display.
And so, no matter what our situation, maybe it’s better to work within constraints. What can be achieved in a small space, or with limited supplies, may be exactly what we need to unlock our mind and produce work that still answers the questions that the soul asks of us. It’s certainly true of why I began using watercolour over other less portable and messier mediums. Perhaps we are more resourceful if we have fewer resources.