For professional athletes, to be ‘machine-like’ is a good thing, a compliment. To return a perfect serve. To hit every green in regulation. To score 100% of penalty attempts. Those at the top of their game are machines – an almost robotic consistency with incredible accuracy. Perfect.But, no one ever calls an artist a machine.
There’s probably a reason for that.
What constraints do I need to have in place so that I can do my best creative work and produce images I’m proud of?
Why is it more difficult to make creative work when I’ve rested all day? Shouldn’t the energy I’ve saved through rest be fuel to maximise creative output?
If something feeds the soul and something else drains it, why is it so difficult to prioiritise the thing that’s good for us?
How do we know when something is done and what’s the value of calling something done even if we’re not happy with how it turned out?
A line can be one of two things: confident or competent. Can it ever be both?
