Over the past week we revisited the design and artistic focus of our project. After one of our regular client meetings, we were encouraged to take a more abstract approach.  

At first we felt a little lost. After developing a concept and moving forward with that we had to completely change direction. We weren’t sure exactly where to start. A constant mantra of great artists is to learn from those around you, from those who came before you.  There is a famous anecdote told about Picasso. An interviewer once accused him of copying another painter. Picasso, enraged, jumped up and declared, “I didn’t copy from him; I stole from him.” When you steal something you take ownership.

 Taking from what has come before you is a natural part of the creative process, evolution. Art connects generations and bridges gaps. Awareness of the context in which you are creating is therefore an essential part of the process.

For the Renaissance painter or the wandering writer research was more like a game of broken telephone. Information traveled slowly, stories changed; a direct encounter with the work of others often took great effort and a twist of fate. The artist was often aware of the work of others but direct interaction often carried an artistic a sense of serendipity; it was different than reading the news,  it was a journey.

But this has changed. In our age of interconnectivity where information flows like water and we consume as easily as we breathe, the artist is constantly aware of everything that is being created in every field.  In my RSS reader alone I’m confronted on a daily basis with ideas and creations of other. Often I feel out shadowed, discouraged. What am I adding to the conversation?

Artists of previous generations were not bombarded with this sense on an hourly basis. And this sensation is especially acute when the tool that I use to create, my computer, is the same tool that delivers the accomplishments of others.

Nothing productive will come of this mindset. With time and experience I’ve changed my perspective. My RSS reader is now a source of inspiration. I look at the things that other people do and remind myself I can do that too and I can do that better; they are human just like me.  

This perspective first emerged when I was in Florence, Italy staring at the massive cathedral in the centre of town. I felt oppressed by the accomplishments of others.  But later that afternoon, when standing in front, of Michelangelo’s David, that energy evolved into inspiration. These people were human like me and look what they did; I can do that too.