Bread
Jenni (my wife) can do amazing things with yeast and flour. Here’s where I suddenly become a non-expert and kind of an idiot. I’m happy to be a baking idiot because the stuff she bakes is so freaking awesome that I would pretend to be a baking idiot even if I weren’t. She makes our bread every week. Yep. Two crusty, golden loaves of goodness for sandwiches, toast, and just stuffing huge hunks in our mouths when she’s not looking. She recently perfected her California Sourdough. Sigh.
Baking her bread is an art. There are three million little steps she goes through by hand. It’s a craft.
Long ago in a galaxy far, far away we had a bread machine. The bread was… okay. Kind of a weird rectylinder-shaped loaf. Not bad. The thing that made it palatable was that Jenni still used her own dough and just used the machine for kneading (carpal tunnel issues). However, I was fascinated (okay, turned off) by the inherent concept of a bread machine.
If you used this machine in the way it was intended, you simply had to combine their box of mix and some water in the machine and press the appropriate buttons at the right time (some even have one-button functionality).
Or, you could drive to Safeway and pick up some Wonder Bread. I still have personal issues with either option. Where’s the love, the craft? Bread baking should be like my Great Grandma Mary used to do. I don’t think I ever saw that woman without flour in her hair or on her clothes. It was messy, yeasty, loud (slap!), and uneven in shape. Beautiful.
I guess that’s why I’m still writing about it twenty-five years later.
Coffee
Coffee. Mmm.. coffee. We make ours in a French press at home. We grind the beans before brewing every pot. We are total coffee snobs (I blame Europe). I don’t care. We love our oily beans, our fresh coffee.
When I’m out of the house my first preference is the local coffee shop, but I’m not opposed to stopping at Starbucks. I won’t pretend that doesn’t represent a conflict in my values (Kiva), but I have other value issues which must be remedied first. Priorities.
One thing that will likely hasten my boycott of Starbucks is the buttons. While Howard Schultz claimed to have a vision of bringing Italian espresso bars to America, he seems to have created the McDonaldLand® version. Just ten short years ago, the Manhattan Starbucks I frequented made their espresso “by hand” in a real machine. The baristas would talk to me and they knew my name. Now it’s just push-button technology and “I HAVE A VENTI SOY LATTE FOR… DAVID?”
It’s a bread machine.
In contrast, the baristas at Concordia Coffeehouse in NE Portland take a little longer to get me my soy latte (like, 30 seconds). But man, what a thing of beauty. It’s an art and I enjoy watching them perform. We talk. I feel pity for the Starbucks “baristas” who don’t get (choose) to do that every day. Maybe there’s a special way they press the buttons. I don’t know.
Computer Art
Well. If you’ve followed me this far, you can see what I’m driving at.
You can create art in the computer by using the pre-set shape tools, gradient effects, blur filters, and use every gadget dans le maison. You can press buttons all day long and you may come out with a good illustration.
Did you put some art in there?
For a long time, a lot of art directors and agents stayed away from buying “computer art.” It looked too perfect, too slick. You could tell it was computer art. People still like seeing those little imperfections that make an illustration feel… real.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with digital illustration. If there were, I would be out of business.
The thing is, if you’re going to create art using the computer, you’ve got to allow for the happy accidents, the serendipitous flyaway brush stroke, the uneven rectangle here and there. Let it be messy. Be asymmetrical. Slap that vector line on the counter with a loud SLAP!
If you use traditional tools (paint, pastel, cut-out paper), you know how messy you can get. Feels good, right?
The computer is just a another tool. You can learn every feature and effect in the Adobe CS4 Design Suite, but that simply makes you a Technical Expert. What makes you an artist is the ability to communicate emotion, action, subtle wit, or simply a comfy feeling. It doesn’t matter if you use a pencil or pixels, but if you choose pixels, please don’t become a button-pusher. Anyone can push a button and learn some features by using a manual. Yes, anyone.
When Jenni takes her bread out of the oven, she beams. She holds it up a steaming, golden loaf and everyone says, “Oooooooohhhh!”
That’s art. That’s what art does.
So use the computer to make your art. Don’t forget to be a little messy.
I totally agree.
If you take the (World Population / Whatever version Adobe is on) * (The current year + Number of tutorial blogs online) – People who want to be writers = Number of people who call themselves Designers!
My only fear is that (since I do digital illustration and design) I’m actually one of those people. Ouch.
Your article makes me feel even better about going freehand first. I’m not trying to market anything (yet), so there’s no pressure to make it “perfect.” I’m drawn to the computer to see what I can do with something once it’s sketched out, but every time I’ve tried to start with software I’ve run out of gas creatively. Or maybe it’s the enthusiasm that leaks out. Yes, the messiness of the graphite on my hands is a satisfying thing. I could go halfway and use rulers and triangles (lo-fi technology) but even those slow down the creative process at the start.