Setting rules         

How to change and grow when you are set in your ways

Trying something different in any medium or method is daunting. In large part, it’s because trying new things is scary. What if we screw up? That’s where our default setting kicks in, and we revert to the same old way of doing things. A change in drawing styles, a color palette shift, new tools, and a different musical style all challenge our mental fortitude. So we end up back in our safe space.

My life in graphic design and illustration required conceptual flexibility. Every job had a different set of needs and expectations, but all the solutions had to work. They had to solve the problem at hand in a visually compelling way. I quickly learned to set rules for each project: what I could and could not do, what could or couldn’t be communicated, and what the feel should be.

Setting rules provides direction and keeps us on track. 

This way of thinking has helped immensely in my studio work. Setting rules keeps me on course for whatever I wish to try and creates continuity in existing lines of thought. As I have several themes going at once, it helps me to push them further or maintain consistency between pieces in a series. It also comes in very handy when exploring completely new territory.

In my Intrusion series, animals in man-made spaces, I create specific limitations. The animals can’t be common, no cats, raccoons, or dogs. The scenarios must be possible but not plausible. No fantasy or surrealism, no pink dragons or floating donuts. And the furry intruders must fit into the physical reality of the scene.

When exploring more abstract realms, I adjust the rules to modify or tweak things I didn’t like about the last series or to create new directions. For example, if the work gets too busy, I’ll set a rule that says, only a handful of big shapes, no hard edges, no small pieces until the whole structure is set. Then, I’ll set a tone for each painting: no primary or secondary colors, predominantly quiet with a small percentage of movement, or vice versa. I can also set rules for application of pigment, layering color, and the nature of the color-shape relationships to encourage a kind of mechanical continuity in a series. 

When we identify someone’s creative efforts at a glance, we recognize their voice, which consists of a series of decisions or rules about how they communicate, their style, and their conceptual choices. You don’t really have an artistic voice without rules, unless your identity is a rule-breaker. 

You can use this process to push yourself. Set the rules according to where you want to go; the ultimate rule is that if you don’t follow the rules, the penalty is a scrape down. If your work feels too… anything, set a rule. Too busy? Be reductive. No extraneous visual noise. Same color mixes every time? Make a rule to change your palette and pigment setup. If the effort feels amateurish, set a rule to practice the things that need polishing before you make more finished work. Rules aren’t suggestions; they’re personal mandates, and if you break a rule, you have to pay me a dollar. That’s my new rule.

If you are going to play by your own rules, it helps to be clear on what they are.

larry mooreComment