There’s something really lovely about doing the same thing over and over again; getting a better understanding and a deeper connection to the activity over time. It’s what many of us call ‘craft’. Craft extends to many things that, in today’s world, might be considered ‘menial’ like collecting soot to make traditional Japanese ink when industrial solutions exist or mending a thatched roof with straw when it would be much easier to replace with a tiled solution.
I consider my watercolour work in a similar way. The multi-sensorial learning that’s associated with it – the colour-mixing, the weight of water in a brush, the sheen of water on the paper that indicates the right time to place the pigment – these are all learned from ‘menial’ repitition. It’s something I’ve deeply enjoyed and continue to enjoy.
However…
Whilst I spend this time improving my craft, there are also things I’ve said no to. I’ve said no to digital art, for a very long time. I’ve tried many tools over the years and, every time, I fail to get the feeling that physical watercolour gives me – there has been a distinct absence of flow when I’m working digitally.
But, the final resting place of my watercolour work is mostly within commercial picture books – a world that isn’t immune to the consistent and continual commodification of things: how might we do more with less?
Responding to commerce
As an illustrator, I have a couple of options. The first option is that I tell myself I’ll remain ‘consistent’ with my watercolour practice and, if the picture book work dries up because publishers can no longer afford the extra time, attention, and care it takes to convert those physical paintings into a book, I bid that work a fond goodbye and consider it a fun and interesting period of my life – all good things must come to an end.
The second option is to ‘adapt’. To reframe the idea of ‘craft’ not around the physical medium of the work, but the intent – visual storytelling. When the craft is visual storytelling, the ‘physical/digital’ divide goes away because it’s not about that anymore, it’s about image sequence, composition, framing and the image’s relationship with the text. It’s less about the artefact, and more about the process.
I use to say I was remaining ‘consistent’ with my aversion to digital work, but now, I think I’ve been resistant – closing myself off to the possibility and opportunity it brings to focus on a different part of the craft, not just wet paper and pigment.