Noodling is a word I use to describe when I’m messing around. A bit like play. Maybe there’s some idea, or starting point, that sits me down with a pencil in hand, but often there isn’t. Most of the time, when I sit down to draw for fun, I truly have no idea where the marks I’m making will go.
But, I also know that without a little noodling, I’ll never make a pasta. It’s become one of the most important parts of my art practice.
What can I learn from how brewers help or hinder the flavour profile of rice when they’re making sake?
If I’ve only noticed the sunrise a handful of times out of tens of thousands of daily opportunities. What else have I missed?
If we never know when the world will offer us a new idea, how can we best prepare for the moment when it inevitably comes?
If you feel like dancing, you probably wouldn’t book last minute tickets to a Chopin concert. So what’s bad music? And can bad books exist?
What changes in an art practice when the sharing of the work one makes becomes secondary to making the work in the first place?
