Conditions (of process)
By megan dealSeptember 19th, 2007
posted by megan deal
I have developed a conditional process. These conditions have become habits, no less obsessions – a set of circumstances that must be present in my design process if I am to perform with the highest degree of creativity. Some of these conditions are material (i.e. strong coffee, black fine point pens, jazz), some are environmental (campus library, office, secluded apartment), but most often these factors are determined by the task at hand. We each have established our own set of process rules that, when followed, allows us to design with heightened capability. All of these conditions, however different for each designing individual, share a common thread, that is, they are desirable. They are our addictions, and we are dependent upon them to function. They are the constituting parts in our creative process that we utilize on repeat, and the predictable patterns that form between projects. We strive to reach them. They are the conditions that are important in shaping our design process and who we are as designers.
But what happens when these conditions that we so strongly rely upon become unattainable? How do we react when the circumstances change and we physically cannot work within our desired constraints? Do our minds shut off? Does all creativity cease? Do we yell to those around us in utmost indignation, “I cannot work under these conditions!” and then impatiently storm away?
Though I see the importance for young design students to experiment with and develop a set of working conditions for which they know they perform at their best, I would suggest that in order to fully develop as designers, outside the safety zone of our institutional walls, we must not limit ourselves to merely those conditions. We must be able to adapt and function if our beloved conditions are extracted from our control and replaced by a new, unfamiliar set of variables. Aside from merely adjusting our process to accommodate such changes, I would like to suggest that we begin embracing these alternatives. No longer should we look at so called “speed bumps” on the road of process as constraining, but rather as significant components to the approach – unexpected instances that may force us in a new and exciting direction.
Un-Limited Conditions
In a situation of addiction, the addict becomes dependent upon the object for which they desire. The infatuation with the person, place, or thing that drives the addiction becomes so controlling that, upon its removal, the addict is unable to function conventionally, and often remains in this state until the object of desire is returned to their possession. Much like the smoker perpetually needs her nicotine, or the caffeinated habitually needs her triple shot of expresso, we as designers consistently rely on our preferred conditions to provide us with both comfort and coherence. We recognize the circumstances that induce productivity, and therefore do everything that we possibly can to ensure the proper situation of ourselves within these contexts. However, by determing and fixing ourselves to a set of strict conditions in our design process, (ones that we refuse to detach ourselves from) we are closing the door to discovery, disallowing opportunity to experience the unfamiliar.
Let me give a personal example to clarify this point:
When writing, (be it formal essays, casual commentary, or simply a thank you note to a distant relative), I require an unalterable set of conditions.
1) I have to have absolute silence
2) I have to draft everything by hand first, (on loose sheets of paper)
3) I need to REALLY be in the right state of mind, “in the zone,” if you will
3.5) I prefer it to be early in the morning as opposed to later at night, though this is dependent mostly upon the level of writing for which I pursue.
I would imagine that others have similar consistent “rules” of process.
I have discovered that the above conditions allow me to write at my highest capacity, ensuring that I will be able to thoroughly complete the task at hand. However, there are times when factors impose upon these desired conditions, and it becomes simply impossible to work within these constraints. Perhaps the student sitting adjacent decides that it’s a perfect time to catch up on all her phone calls, and begins yapping away about God only knows what, to God only knows who. Or, perhaps I’ve stayed up way to late the night before, struggling just to count the proper change to stick into the coffee machine, let alone draft a thought provoking, purposeful essay. The integrity of my entire creative process relies on a set of conditions in order to operate sufficiently, and if such conditions are unattainable, then my stubbornness disallows me to coherently carry on, diminishing the opportunity for new realizations to surface.
It’s not a question of whether we can or cannot adjust to conditional change, but simply that we won’t. We’re strong-willed individuals when it comes to our process of creativity, and most of us are hesitant to embrace anyone or anything that seems to obstruct our path. It is my presumption that most of us will resist the “debut” of these alternative circumstances, desperately developing ways in which we can return our process back to our beloved set of comforting conditions. However, it is crucial that we learn how to readjust our creative process and advance our level of efficiency even when the conditions that we so desire are withdrawn from our control and replaced with the unconventional. We must force ourselves to endure and allow ourselves to adapt to these new conventions, in order to open the door to unrealized ideas.
The New Alternatives
Aside from merely adapting to alternatives in the condition of process, we must also identify the value associated with embracing such changes, both the favorable and the outwardly undesirable. Often I hear design students talking about those unexpected moments of clarity; those incredible “ah ha” moments that can occur while in the shower, while stuck in traffic, or during other mindless activities. Such periods of discovery are often deemed the breaking points in one’s creative process – those wonderful moments when the solution has made itself ever so clear. Juxtapose these ostensibly beneficial situations with those “other” changes in the process, (i.e. the budget cuts, the heightened deadline, the lack of “inspiration,” etc). One doesn’t often hear a peer or colleague exclaim, “Yeah, so I spilled coffee on my sketches, my hard-drive seems to be deleting files, and oh yeah, my mom called and wrapped me into a three hour conversation about gardening techniques last night, but it’s okay because I think it all helped me finally see the big picture on this project.”
Call me crazy, but I propose that we start to look at such unexpected variables in process with the same awe-inspring gaze that we so often only direct towards the favorable variables. We must recognize that no matter how hindering such occurrences seem, they are an inevitable part of our process, contributing on the journey from point A to B. We mustn’t controvert their existence or challenge them, but rather learn how to use them to our advantage. These conditions, no matter how traumatic they seem or how many tears they generate, can lead us to a new point in our process, and lend themselves towards the development of new ideas, and unexpected results.
Un-Conditioning Ourselves
When an addict makes an effort to free herself from her dependency, she will often experience various periods of struggle. The process of abolishing a habit is grueling, and often the addict will feel as though the consequences of the addiction are more favorable to deal with then the challenge of quitting. However, if she’s determined to revitalize her existence and strive towards self-betterment, the addict will slowly work her way from that which provides her comfort, freeing herself from that which she’s been so long devoted to.
Learning to adjust and embrace ALL changes in the creative process will require a similar, step-by-step approach. It will undoubtedly be arduous and frustrating at times, but upon attainment, will bring forth new insight and understanding to the designing individual. Setbacks along the way should be expected but not viewed as failure. Just as the addict can return to her habit, the designer too can fall back towards the comforting conditions they have always relied upon. By now, one should realize that this nominal foundering is simply an integral part of the process, not to be avoided, but rather accepted, and used to one’s own advantage in directing the evolution of the conditional process.
A quote is brought to mind and if I can ever remember who said it I’ll be sure to fill you in:
“The human condition is nothing, if not adaptable.” -Someone
Anyway, when I read this essay I cannot help relate the creative process of designers to musical improvisation (although one might argue they are essentially one and the same). The songs designers sing are visual rather than audible but adhere to the same set of circumstance I believe most good songs do. A song itself is composed of many separate parts (ie: a verse, bridge, chorus, solo, etc) yet when they are put together well they achieve a harmony of balance and dynamic that neither detracts or takes away from the song as a whole. But achieving this balance can be quite an undertaking for the musician in much the same way it can be for the designer. The musician must constantly improvise (and adapt) to the conditions and requirements of the song to be successful in their execution.
You discussed (at length) the need for designers (and students of design) to re-evaluate their creative process and allow it to become adaptable to an almost infinite set of variables. I would agree that this is important not only for the creative process but can be related to life in general. We all know that the road of life can become quite bumpy at times yet being able to adapt, improvise and to some extent anticipate is what allows for life to keep going so we don’t stall out on that great road of life.
So to wrap it up (since this is getting wordy); change is good, improvisation is good, adaptability is good, the essay is good, and believe it or not; I’m going to eat more food.
I am not an addict. No, I am not in denial. I honestly wish I were dependent on certain environmental conditions of process, but I simply have not found them.
Consider that, in seven semesters at CCS, I have lived in three places and have switched my workspace around each semester in each respective place. Sometimes I’ve rearranged my setting multiple times during the semester. All told, I’ve worked in about 11 different home workspaces since ‘04. The amount of time I’ve spent moving furniture could probably have been better spent sketching.
In my life, I have lived in 17 different dwellings. I have moved every year for at least the past 12. I have held 11 different jobs. I have owned 7 vehicles, I have played in 12 bands, I have attended 3 colleges, and I have lived with 2 women. I have…you get it. I am fleeting and constantly in motion – even physically, as I’m sure you’ve all witnessed my fidgetry in class.
The point is I’ve never had a comfort zone, and I am not a comfortable person. Design process has thus far been largely an excrutiatingly painful procedure, full of distracted second-guesses and an overwhelming desire to just flee – anything from smoking a cigarette to finding a new line of work. At no point in my design process have I reached a “zone,” and any finished project represents a sweaty and bloody battle with myself to reach completion. I might as well be breaking rocks.
In just six hours of this project, I’ve filled 8 pages not only with what I am doing, but what I am feeling and thinking, and I already see a great disconnect between the two. I am already realizing my lifelong lack of living in the moment, and how that may be a major impetus to a pure and good design process.
What I hope to achieve with this project is some recognizable glimmer of a comfort zone. If I even accidentally document just one moment when I am in a good clean place of process purity, I may become hooked.
The post by megan was quite intriguing. To an extent I both agree and disagree with a couple of points made. The strongest parallel I find in the concept of process conditioning is the thought of the unexpected “ah-hah” moment. I strongly believe that to be truly creative you cannot have a set standards of conditions. In writing (as mentioned in the post) habitual situations do tend to be useful as well as in the production of creative intuition. By this I mean, habits about environment and circumstantial dependency ie. strong coffee, loud music, total isolation from human contact, do not provoke the creative mind. Those situations are important and vital when it comes time to implement and produce the design, not come up with the ultimate epiphany.
The “unexpected ah-hah moment” is the true test of creativity. Sitting alone in a room consuming deadly amounts of coffee rarely inspire design genius. It’s when you detach yourself from yourself and begin to live life without a predetermined agenda when the true inspiration shows itself. Thats what makes us creative people. We have the ability to be inspired by the things in our environment on a daily basis. We can take the things that we see and experience and alter, improve, and refine them to make something new, better, and more beautiful.
I believe that we become habitual only once we have reached the climax of our creativity. Once we are inspired / motivated, then we resort to the comfort zone that we have created for ourselves more out of dedication and obsession than necessity. We “get in zone” as Megan says because we become passionate about what we do. The concept she mentioned before
“I cannot work under these conditions!” and then impatiently storm away?
only really applies when something interferes with that passion and I personally find it has nothing to do with environmental circumstances or lack of habitual necessities, but rather is provoked by some form of human interaction, usually some form of interaction that opposes our own. I find that I assimilate those who share the same ideals and work tendencies as my own and work better when those types of individuals around. I strongly believe that our form of conditioning isn’t really as constrained or mandatory as we tend to believe.
I am getting bored with the process trend. We have spent close to an entire year contemplating this term and working it out through our projects. And it is not only students that are obsessing over it, but professional designers as well. Creatives are taking pictures of their workspaces because they think that other designers want to see where and how they work. Thus, we are beginning to believe that creative space exists on a more individual base. It seems to be that the spaces are less reflective of the process than we think. They are more part of our personality and the transition of things within the space, in which tends to cause disfunction within function. These workspaces allow us to separate reality and design, and organize accordingly.
It seems that process has more relation to the project and that inspiration is what relates to location. one environment is not exclusive to a project, but is shared with others. Therefore, we use our creative spaces more kinetically. We can then begin to make connections with where and what we can be do in a certain position. For instance, you may find yourself being more efficient sitting at your desk with all your office supplies and coffee rings or you might explore the far from comfortable berber carpet flooring where all the dirt and spray mount residue lives. Either way, it is the picking and choosing of space verses different tactics of process. Thus, process will always be different regardless of routines. if anything, I have concluded that process has made me less organized. This is apparent because the pace of life has increase dramatically and that I have started to collage ideas with my mundane routines.
Nevertheless, i think we, as designers, need to weight process over inspiration and how they can be effected by space. And that maybe we should stop using the word process so because it is loosing its interest.
response.
Process is not only about how or when you create, but process is about playing the role of a designer 24/7. Without dressing the part, acting the part, and implementing the part of being a designer no one is ultimately being true to their design process. Being a designer is a full life job,
Defining ones self or defining ones process is too limiting. As we all know design can be anything. Everything is design. All designers have a process, yes, but setting a time and specific location for this “process” to take place in or at seems like you may be slacking on your full life job as a designer.
I see design process more as life a process, like Ken B. we have all traveled many places to get where we are now. Whether it was literally traveling or just simply through moving rooms our process is formed by our consciousness of our surrounding life.
So what I am saying is that designers should be using their life experience to inform their design and “process”. Living, breathing and eating design. Design is not a passion or an idea it is a focus. A focus, which, should be applied every waking moment of a designers life, design is my focus. Life is my process, and life will bring those unexpected variables and that is the beauty of living a designer life.
I am struggling, I am nothing, I can’t find anything, I just run, but I want.
I am struggling to do the best I can. It’s my senior year, I feel it’s now or never. The only time I’ve felt successful in my process/work environment was when I lived with my ex and had the entire 3rd level of the bungalow as my “studio”, complete with my bike on a trainer, a couch, TV, radio, desk, printer, lots of floor and wall space, book shelves etc. That was my freshman year. Since then I have lived in a new place every year. Went to my brothers house the first summer, then that fall moved into an apartment with a room mate so I was confined to my tiny room, trying to keep my process mess from spreading. Then I had to move back home…again into a tiny room and now 50 miles away from CCS. My bed was 3′ from my desk. Too easy to crawl into when frustrated and anxious. Now, I’m squatting in a friends house that is for sale. I have no clue when I may have to move so I only brought the bare necessities to the house. It doesn’t feel like home. I work better in Yana’s basement than I seem to in my own “home”. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe its because there is another person around to bounce ideas off of. I have a nice Ikea desk in one of the empty bedrooms yet right now I am sitting in a folding bag chair at a card table with America’s Next Top Model on TV in the background. Its definitely not doing it for me…but I don’t know what will either. The only thing I have noticed that seems to help more than once, is listening to music I don’t know or wouldn’t normally listen to. It is a change of pace for my mind.
I am nothing. I felt like I went from top of the class to dead last from freshman year to now. I’ve gone through so much through this time I can’t really figure out what it is, and why. But I feel that it’s really because I DON’T have a “zone” where I perform the best. I feel like I do much better when I have mechanical work to do, rather than conceptual/process. Maybe its because my brain can shut off and my skeletal and muscular systems take over as I go into auto pilot.
I can’t find anything…in my mind, in my room, in my personal life. It’s all packed in boxes, or at my parents house, or my brothers basement. I seems like every time I move, I bring less and less stuff with me to the next place. My design arsenal has depleted.
When I can’t get in a zone, I run. I get frustrated to the point that I can’t sit there any more. I will do anything to avoid the work that I know I have ahead of me. Sometimes I try to just go for a walk and either clear my mind, or just think- hoping something I see might inspire me. Living back in the city has definitely helped. When I lived at my parents house last year I was in the “country” and I felt like there wasn’t enough stimulation around me.
I want so badly to do well. I am willing to try anything this year to find my “zone”. I feel that I need to find my zone before I can break out of my zone. If that means lots of caffeinated beverages and late nights/early mornings, so be it. We are entering the third week of the semester and I have already pulled 2 all-nighters, on my way to a third. I have already apologized to all of my friends and family, including my boyfriend, for the lack of attention or time I am able to spend with them. I am married to CCS until May 2008. By then I hope to achieve the goal of finding my zone, as well as knowing I did the best I could.
I just wanted to add this for thought…
I once read Stefan Sagmeister’s process developed from from a 1930’s manual titled “A Technique for Producing Ideas…
1. Think about the project from any point of view- your mom’s, yours, from the point of view of color, or form- and write each response down on a single index card.
2. Spread all the index cards out on a big table and see if you can find the relationship between the different thoughts.
3. Forget about the whole thing
4. The idea will strike you miraculously when you least expect it”
It just made me wonder, that by step 3, can you truly “forget about the whole thing?” or will step 4 be subconsciously influenced by steps 1 and 2 regardless? Either way, a lot of times I feel like I work like this. I lay down all my process work and feel like I’ve got nothing out of it. Out of frustration I throw it aside and go on to something else be it another project or watching TV or reading. Then suddenly it will just hit me. This is how the concept of the knotted Family Care Network logo was conceived too. It worked but I still feel like my process is haphazard and missing some kind of structure or form. Or perhaps I second guess myself too much until someone else accepts or denies my idea. I want the confidence to know if something is good and works, rather than being dependent upon everyone else’s opinion.
In response to rberesh:
Don’t you ever worry that overexposing yourself to anything will eventually render it dull and meaningless, even design?
I think that it’s important to be passionate about what you do. And yes, being passionate can lead to thinking about it more often than not, but the idea of constantly absorbing design at all times is an idealistic one at best. Sometimes, other things in life are more important.
While what you’re saying might apply to you, I don’t believe it applies to all designers, as I like to separate work and play, as I’m sure others do too. Can anybody else relate?
passion=too sexual for design. we should stop using that term. please read.
http://www.metropolismag.com/cda/story.php?artid=2668
Process is over-emphasized at our school. Thats not to say that I don’t enjoy the steps of ideation and documentation, in fact I think that it has made a world of difference in my work, but I think that there is far to great an emphasis put on it. When a teacher tells you that something is the most important part of your project, and that it is what you are being graded on, and then proceeds to tell you that in real life almost no one will ever see this work, you get a very mixed message. It should be taught, and it needs to be taught, but in the end, everyone works differently, and I don’t think that this one format of visual process should become the standard by which students are graded.
My thoughts tend to wander into a more worldly, all-encompassing perspective when approaching this topic, and how it relates to the idea of work environments in general. It’s mind-boggling to me that there are careers on this planet that require a change of location on a weekly basis. Are they too swallowed by environment (even for a split second) and unable to perform to their highest potential? When their desired conditions are stripped away, how do they maintain focus? Granted, they are not doing “creative” work per say, but there is still a level of excellence and accuracy that needs to be met. I have yet to discuss this with someone of such a career, but I bet any of them would reply with some form of relatively the same response, “You get used to it.” I agree whole-heartedly with Aubrey in the idea that process (and the creative energy necessary to produce it) is directly built in to WHO we are, and less about WHERE we are. Yes, some conditions are favored, but I think ultimately we are able to surrender and let habit and dedication take over, and when it is absolutely necessary (as it so often is), probably sooner than one would expect.
Well to begin, I’ve loved the idea of process ever since Chad introduced us to his method of process. I can’t say that I’m still in love with the process but I think that it was fundamental to learn a process and then take away anything unnecessary to make a method that works for you. For myself, I never had a process and just kind dove head first into a project without the slightest clue of what I was going to do or where I was going to start. I think that by giving myself some structure I have been able to come up with more interesting and none cliché ideas from what I would have come up with. Although this may be true about me, there are times when I abandonee everything in the middle of a project and just don’t bother with process and just DO… that seems to work just as well as going through an entire process at times, but it can have its drawbacks. For instance I would hit a wall and have nothing to fall back to because I didn’t have a process to back me up.
On the subject of environment, I have found that I have trouble experimenting and just letting myself explore and have fun at work (Carhartt, Campbell-Ewald) but I have no problem letting loose at home and just doing the craziest of things. In the past year or so I have been trying to ” find my self” as a designer and have been a lot more open to experimenting at work. For example, I needed a background for a certain project at work (Carhartt) and so I took a piece of paper towel and pored my coffee on it and drew on it and made the marker bleed all over it! I probably would never have done this more then a year ago but I’ve been putting much effort in breaking this barrier I have between my comfort zone of my house and my work. Now Carhartt isn’t exactly the most creative or exciting place to work at and possibly isn’t much room for experimentation but just the idea of me being able to “play” and step out of my comfort zone was very fulfilling. So I do think it is very important not to have a certain comfort in a location or certain things or at least not to the point where you cant function without them.
Conditions (of process)
First of all, I thought that this article was really interesting. When I was reading about how someone can seem to get a lot more work done in certain environments with certain tools… I thought how lucky is this person. I have thought about and tried so many things to try and find how I can be more productive. I have discovered through time that there are certain things that can keep me awake. There are also certain places where I can think more clear. But to be honest with you I have yet to find a way to keep my mind from wondering, stressing, being excited, or worrying about things that are happening, things that I have to get done, and all the other things that people think about every day. I think that everyone has there own ways to be most productive, I actually know so from reading through some of the other responses.
“To perform with the highest degree of creativity?” When I read this quote the first time going through the article I thought that it made sense to me. Now I look at it and think that it’s not something that you can really make yourself do, but something that you can achieve when you are at a certain point in what you are doing. I think for me this is when I am working on something and finally get to the point where I know what I am doing or where I am going with the project. It’s getting the concept figured out that i seem to struggle with most of the time. I feel like every time is different, the light bulb finally lights up over my head and I get really productive. It’s getting to the point of this realization of what I need to do to get the project done the way I want to that kills me, but once I’m there I everything kind of falls into place.
In response to the article, my process is a very scattered and unconscious thing. I don’t know what to focus on and easily lose focus within my process and then try to make that tangent work when a pair of fresh eyes could see that it should just be re-assessed. I feel this is a product of my environment because I tend to get lost in my work space and tend not to come up for air until its past production time. So I found it very accurate that you said “our process is our addiction” because I feel that my addiction is the process and getting lost in it and not being able to make sense of it like a reformed crack addict I twitch, shake way to the end result.
I feel that breaking form your confines of process can be a liberating feat in its own right. The idea that removing all your comforts and familiarities as a designer can always yield a new result. I found this out earlier this summer while I was working on magazine spreads and I was separated from my books (inspiration, clipart, text). I at first had a very hard time even beginning my process, without that safety net I focused only on the fact that they weren’t there and not the work at hand. Then I came to a point where I couldn’t wait any longer and with deadline rapidly approaching I needed to adapt and work around it. The work really benefitted from this forced situation, it was some of the most different work i’ve done.
Yes, I agree that one should be challenged ever so often to break our of their conditioned comfort zone when it comes to the practice of how one tends to work when they are designing. But what if you have yet to discover your comfort zone—your design space nirvana, if you will. But what if you are still struggling to find the optimal conditions that will help you to create your best creations whatever they may be? This is the problem I am having; yet I know what conditions are not conducive to bringing out the best in me. I guess that is the starting point…
When it comes to these preset “conditions” or comfort zones, I really feel they can only work in certain scenarios. While everyone works and thinks differently, I personally feel to establish any sort of constant when trying to be creative is definitely something to avoid. I could maybe understand a sense of familiarity in order to create a “zone,” whether it be coffee, music or a peaceful location, but to maintain a routine or go out of the way to create one, will not lead to any new source of inpiration. I think the creative process exists through your interaction with the world and your experiences. So if there is such a thing as a comfort zone, it should only be a place to where your ideas and experiences can reside and come together.
I agree (with above). I definitely feel process relates the same way. I almost always value my process as much if not more so than the final result. Especially with graphics. Throughout the Viscom process I’ve noticed a new way to develop ideas and create design that is extremely helpful and beneficial; but I have become increasingly fearful when resorting back to that same process when taking on new projects. I feel there are many avenues of developing an idea and as creative people we should use the ones that make sense and work for us. No two designers design alike, so why should we all think alike? Design and especially any creative design process should be unique to the individual.