In Search Of The Perfect Part...

I’ve got this thing in my head that needs to get out. Unusually (for me, anyhow) it’s not music, but rather a piece of actual physical art. It is driving me quite crazy; to say I’m obsessing over it would be to understate the matter mightily.

Now, I have absolutely zero training in fine art, unless you count surrealist experiments in grammar school with construction paper and paste. So I’m not entirely sure how to realize this particular piece of… what? I guess it’d be called sculpture, except it will hang on the wall. See? I don’t even know the word for it.

But the whole zero training thing has never stopped me before. I didn’t know how to sing, play an instrument, or write a song before I started a band (one which, let’s be honest, was rather derivative but still managed to move quite a few albums), and I didn’t know the first thing about code, 3D modeling software, or Photoshop before joining with Adam to start a plug-in company (and we all know how that worked out). As a rule, I don’t consider prior knowledge or experience particularly important to the realization of any given goal.

I’ve always found people that are highly trained and skilled in one particular facet of creativity to be somewhat intimidating. Being a Jack Of All Trades, Master Of None sort of person, I admire the singular drive that creates mastery, but only as a spectator. I’m simply not wired that way, as far as I can tell. I often set out to learn a particular skill, but I’m always distracted by the Shiny at some point in the process, and end up traipsing off in to parts unknown.

Anyhow, as a return to the subject, in order to realize this particular piece of wall-sculpture, I need a fairly large supply of a very particular thing: 1” x 6” boards that have been in the Arizona sun for several decades. You’d think this’d be relatively easy to find here, what with the preponderance of abandoned dwellings and businesses that dot the landscape, but so far in my travels around the state I’ve only found one suitable source, and these were still being used as a roof. I was tempted to take ’em anyhow, but I thought about how pissed I’d be if I lived out in the middle of nowhere and some Big City douchebag stole my roof while I wasn’t there, and that tempered my acquisition syndrome somewhat.

So the search continues, and I’m left with the lingering understanding that the creative process is never easy, nor should it be, no matter what form the end product takes. There ain’t no autotune for this particular endeavor, and it has made me appreciate my normal creative process immensely. Don’t get me wrong: if you work for a commercial music house, get your looptastic autotune on, by all means. But in the comfort of your own home studio, is “easy” the best path? Does the end result lack credence because it was easy to make? Or is the one that fights the hardest the most satisfying in the end?