Finished?

As usual, I’ve got projects starting, finishing and somewhere in-between. I can’t imagine it being any other way. Yesterday, I finally got my official certificate of occupancy and mortgage for my house and it made me think about finishing projects. It’s a different kind of finishing when you need concrete outside approval to say it’s done. It’s strange to have the intermingling of very personal choices with requirements of building code, bank regulations and the quirks of municipal government. Usually, when I get close to finishing a chair, I get a bit more self conscious and question my efforts from a perceived viewer or client. Is it good enough? Is it comfortable? Will it meet expectations? But there isn’t a form marked “approved” or “denied” to punctuate the job.

the Kitchen even has window trim!

With the house, I’ve been mostly trying to finish out a vision I had long ago. The problem with long term projects is the original vision fades and gives way to a struggle to get out of what I’ve gotten myself into. Honestly, after a few months, I’d forgotten the point of the exercise. My book was very much the same way, as I suspect it is for many authors. With both projects, I had put myself in a do or die position and began to see success as just getting through it. The last few months of spending time making sure stair overhangs and handrails met code further obscured the point of making myself a home. Imagine my surprise as all my decisions, expense and toil actually added up to having a house I love.

I’ve been through the process of making things enough now to see the pattern in myself, and the potential downfalls and benefits. The downfall is mainly the struggle, bordering on suffering that goes into just about anything I do. I’m not a measured or organized person, at least on the inside. I operate mix of impulse, intuition and exertion. The positive part being this way has only become clear after a lifetime of observation. It works. This concoction of blood, sweat and imposter syndrome usually adds up to something worthwhile. I always shrink a little when others admire something I’ve done, it feels a bit too revealing. For instance, to me, my book is a portrait of myself in a particularly manic and obsessive state. Yes, I’m proud of the results, but to me, I mostly appreciate it as a cathartic experience which left me a bit more calm.

There is a wonderful interview by the New York Times with George Saunders about his book Lincoln in the Bardo. As you know, he is one of my favorite speakers on the creative process. This interview is a great example. He points out the unsteady, mysterious and insecure process that is creating, at least the good stuff. Yes, there are exalted moments where everything feels right and falls into place, but the initial experience is all risk and chaos. Getting comfortable in this space takes practice and patience.

As I’ve been finishing the filming of the Temple chair video, I’ve been surprised by how many details and elements I’ve been describing as essential to the design, because I knew this chair as a doodle. Somewhere along the line the object congealed and dimensions and shapes became very specific. Hindsight tends to obscure the questioning and indecision. No matter how many projects I undertake, I have to start at the same open, unsure place.

The early phases of a project can be intoxicating, because it’s all potential and imagination, nothing to judge. Of course, this gives way to the reality of consequences and the effort to correct or adjust the path and expectations.

Here is one of my favorite descriptions of the creative process, shown to me by Aspen Golann, it hangs on the wall of the Penland blacksmith studio.

Another quote that comes to mind is from Mike Tyson. “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth”. As I sit in my kitchen, both battered and happy, I’m trying to reconcile with the hopeful guy who put me into fight or flight for the last 20 months, mostly because he’s already whispering in my ear that it’s time to start on the barn.