Learning while writing.
Having spent a lot of time playing with AI recently, working out the best format for prompting (what I consider as a new form of language), and also organising my thoughts and process through embracing a blog as a format of process, I realised that communication and the combining of visual and text-based research, is very much at the core of my practice.
A chatgpt summary of my learnings (and the blog below)
Having immersed myself in AI and experimented with new forms of language, I've unearthed a crucial truth: effective communication and the fusion of visual and text-based research are the pillars of my practice.
Teaching others to teach, I've witnessed how translating knowledge into language not only reinforces learning but also expands cognitive pathways.
Problem-solving for others offers a clear-eyed perspective, devoid of the emotional bias that often clouds our own judgment.
One technique I employ to combat attachment bias is having students erase what they perceive as their best work, aiming for a cohesive whole rather than isolated successes.
In my artistic, I prioritise clarity over polish, showcasing the messy process behind the scenes rather than presenting a pristine facade.
Embracing imperfections like light leaks and blur adds authenticity, prevents the sterile perfection that can alienate viewers.
Artistic near-perfection can create cognitive dissonance, leaving viewers feeling disconnected. Imperfections foster connection and engagement, making the work relatable and inviting exploration.
Communication has inherently interested me, from realising that when students learned to teach others, they became better at drawing. The action of taking a learnt activity or skill, and moving it into a language based format for explaination, cements the learning and also develops further brain pathways that support recall.
Additionally, spending time problem-solving work that you are less emotionally invested (that of others) in allows you to learn how to overcome the problems you face in your own work without the emotional attachment that can sometimes inhibit the ability to see the faults in the work clearly.
A part of the process I used to teach, a well-known way of approaching emotional attachment 'blindness,' is to ask students to rub out the bit of their work they believe to be the best. We are trying, within our work, to create a harmonious whole. When you get stuck in details, and in particular become emotionally attached to an area you think you have done best, you can often end up with a selection of good 'parts' that combined to not achieve the sum result we were striving to achieve.
Clarity is something I seek within my work, both clarity of process and clarity of outcome. I like to show thinking, stress tests, wrong results, and the rough behind-the-scenes. I have never had much interest in a 'polished' solution but one that shows the grubby handprints of the thoughts and failures that have gone into producing the images.
Happy accidents, mistimed shutter released, light leaks, and blurs all add to the 'realness - something we should never forget is fundamental to allowing others to appreciate the work. It is possible to become too polished; humans struggle to process perfection simply because it is not achievable. Particularly in representational art, when the work is 'almost' perfect but not quite, I start a process of analysis rather than appreciation or connection with the observer. It results in the brain continuously saying, 'this looks like a person, but it is not a person' on repeat, leaving a slightly uncomfortable viewing experience. The errors, flaws, clear brush strokes, and abstract elements within the work allow the viewer to connect, engage, and feel that the work is 'for' them rather than either being overwhelmed by the work's perfection or endlessly searching for flaws.
My most recent work, in response to another artists’ work - has been putting this into practice - taking my musings into condensed formats via AI to create prompt structures.