Mus001
The Importance of Nascence
The naming of things is important. It can help shape projects, offer identity and constrain creativity in positive ways. The name Nascent Draftsman is an intentional attempt to design a space with which to create into. It helps address some of my own creative inhibitions that I have had early on in my journey. Here I intend to offer a simple definition of these two words and an explanation for why they were chosen and why they matter. The bottomline is that those who seek perfection fail to start. And this is my start.
One thing I have learnt since I originally started drawing is that it is hard to do your best work. Rarely do I look at a finished piece and say “wow, yeah, that’s the best I can do. This is me at 100% of my abilities,” and so when I sit down to start a drawing this can be paralysing. Typically I’ll start with high expectations. Then at some point through the process I will make a mistake, or more likely, the piece just drifts away from my aspirations. I am then at a point where I know this isn’t as good as I’m capable, nor is it finished. This demoralising realisation often inhibits my ability to finish, but also to start a drawing, knowing I’ll just get halfway through before the drawing falls short of its intentions.
I have found a cure for this however; be bad. Give yourself the excuse to not execute to your potential. Before you start, don’t tell yourself this will be your best work. Still give each piece an honest effort but be happy with 85%. If it comes out better, well great, but the bottomline is that you finish it. Maximum efforts are something that you will give at a later point. By giving yourself the excuse to be bad you take away the excuses to not start.
The truth is, my best work from five years ago (probably even 3 years ago), is only as good as a rough sketch today. My skill development has far out strapped my effort on any given drawing. The most important component of this improvement turned out to not be the effort at all, but more the consistency. The act of drawing everyday. Drawing shitty drawings every single day. Because now, even my shitty drawings are better than my most refined prior work. As long as I continue to finish drawings I expect this to continue. So any impediment to current progress is a problem. That includes the paralysis of the blank page when I ‘have to’ produce my ‘best work’.
Following this, I need to lower the barrier of entry. I need something to remove inhibitions and make starting and finishing pieces easy. Here lies the importance of nascence. A simple definition of nascent is: in the early stages of development. This is how I describe my artwork. It is just the early stages of the great work I will one day produce. Today is always just a start. What I create does not have to be me at my best; that will come later. Today I just need to add to those early stages of development and create some early work.
This is the first part of the story I tell myself. I am not good. I am bad. I will get good. One day. But not today. Today I just need to do another ‘ok’ drawing.
The other part of the story is more straightforward, the remainder of the name; ‘draftsman’. To find a word that describes someone who draws there are a few obvious choices: Artist, Drawer, Draftsman, illustrator. Each term carries with it its own set of baggage.
The most common term is ‘artist’. However I have never liked this term. Typically it is used in pretentious ways by people who do avant-garde work that the viewer invariably doesn't understand. Alternatively, people might use it to describe their grandmother and her practice of paint-by-numbers, or better yet, her paint-and-sip. All of this is pretty far from my intentions. The other problem is that when people hear ‘artist', they often think ‘painter’, because most self-described artists do in fact have paint as their primary medium. But I don’t paint. So the assumption most people make when hearing the term is off from the beginning.
‘Illustrator’ suffers from a similar problem. Much of what people assume when they think of ‘illustrator’ is more restrictive than what I do. Some of my work is finished illustrations, but as much of it is also sketches and scribbles. It does not code well with the unfinished unrealised process that I am on.
‘Drawer’ might also come up. An awkward word at best. It more often describes a piece of furniture. Partly for both reasons it is infrequently used, mostly for the former, I have chosen not to use it.
‘Draftsman’ is a much better fit. The root word ‘draft’, commonly conveys a sense of ‘unrealized’ or ‘beginning’ and while it does carry with it some mixed connotations I am comfortable to not get confused with those. In some cases it might be used to describe an architect's apprentice, or in the case of where I’m from (rural New Zealand), someone who sorts and auctions sheep. Both of these are far enough away. The definition of ‘draftsman’ is simply: someone who draws well. This word catches the essence of what I do and not too much more.
As I stated above, the naming of things is important. Nascent Draftsman gives me a tight distinction - someone in the early stages of development who draws well - this is who I am and what I do. It grants me both a reason to be bad, and therefore, no good reason not to create. This is just my start.