Comfort Zones, Habits, and Page Layout

Above: a sketch made while watching a "The Fashion Show" (a "Project Runway replacement show aired when PR moved from Bravo to Oxygen—a difficult time for me as I didn't have a Tim Gunn fix). Faber-Castell Pitt Artist's Brush Pen on "NEW" Folio, handmade journal that is approx. 8 x 8 inches square. Click on the image to view an enlargement.

The other day a reader wrote in, responding to recent posts of mine which discussed page layout and design in the journal—and how I approach and build pages. She said she found the post helpful to her for busting her own habits of approach.

I pointed out in turn that I have my own habits of approach—using a grid is the obvious one. But there are also some approaches to layout that I return to, simply because of how I draw, or start a  drawing, and the frequent use, on my part, of square journals (or any shape journal that I make and frequently use for that matter).

The above page with Isaac Mizrahi is a case in point. When you flip a page, in Western books which are read left to right, with the front being the cover that has the spine on the left side, the first thing the eye sees is the recto page, even though we start reading at the left. It takes some time to move the page out of the way and the recto page is revealed first. Because of this I often view the real estate on the recto page as the most important.

Additional Reasons I often Start Drawing on the Recto Page

1. I stand when I sketch out and at least at the start of the book the bulk of the book is in the right hand and it's easier to hold that bulk and draw on it than to balance it and draw on the verso page. (Of course things switch at the end of the book…but I'm talking about generally.)

2. If you are drawing someone who is looking to your left it's natural to start on the recto page so that the person (or bird looking left) looks into the page spread, leading the viewer's eye over to the verso page. If the person is looking the other way, it's natural to do the reverse. Of course sometimes it is important for the person or animal to look out of the page spread because you are making a statement about their isolation, or movement (with space behind them etc.). You get the idea, placement matters for the effect you want to achieve and a decision about this happens for me in a split second when I pick up that pen.

Note: At zoos, the Fair, or in nature, when I have less static subjects I typically start one drawing on a spread and then when the animal moves I start another on the same spread, and so on. I work up whatever images I can. If I'm at the zoo or the Fair and the animal is in an enclosure he's sure to return to a similar position, especially a pacing animal. Every 6 minutes perhaps, he'll return to that position. And in the mean time he has also returned to the other positions I was working on, so they can all move forward with little details. Sometimes it's a matter of doing a more complete sketch and a quick thumbnail of the full animal.

Know the feeding times at the zoo and know the feeding, grooming, and judging times at the Fair so that you don't start working with an animal who is going to depart in a few seconds. Also, over time you'll learn to spot animals that are unlikely to move much given their state of relaxation. And avoid pens containing several animals if one or two are very active—they will constantly throw themselves into or drape themselves over the calmer animals, jostling your subject out of her pose, or obscuring her from view.

2a.—the exception. Sometimes I start my focus animal or bird on the verso page because of everything else I want to get onto the page. Decisions like this relate in part to the spread's dimensions and orientation. In a portrait orientation like this linked example, if I started with the bird on the recto page I wouldn't have fit the building in the way I wanted. Of course, since I don't do any pre-sketching with pencil, and just start working, I'm often off on scale and measuring (working quickly) and what I wanted to fit on the page might never get there anyway—so just a heads up. If this happens to you all the time look and see where you are starting and think of ways you can solve this. But most important—don't feel badly about it—it's a journal, not a finished painting!

What Do I Do with All That Negative Space?

Well once you have your image on the page as discussed above you might rightly ask, "what do I do with all that negative space?" And my response would 9 times out of ten be, "enjoy it!" 

But let's say you're one of those folks (and I admit I fall into this category) to whom verbage matters. In fact, while there may be an image on every page of your visual journal, those images might be triggered or have their starting point in something that you want to write down.

In the opening image of this post my desire to sketch Mizrahi was triggered by his statement about ego and creative work. I wanted to have that quotation written down (I actually grabbed a scrap of paper and scribbled the quotation down, and THEN went and got my journal). I needed something to go with it so I sketched him, and then wrote in the quotation. Here again, having him face into the spread allows me to have him look at his own words.

There are a couple other things happening automatically for me on this page. The image bleeds off the top of the verso page so I balanced this with a "heading" running across the bottom of the verso page. (I'm really sad I didn't get the rest of Mizrahi's hair on the spread—he has a sculptural do that flatters his face structure, but again, with scale, I didn't quite make it, once I start that eye, everything has to grow from there.)

The size of the "type" for the quotation is important to me. You may recall that I don't like long lines of text. I don't like them in books, I don't like them in my journal. There are studies that show what the optimum length a line of text should be in any given point size of type. So if you are working in 10/12 pt. type, for instance, you don't want the text column to be wider than 28 or 29 picas. Thirty picas is the end of the world (though I notice some designers tight on space and needing to keep page counts lower, do break these optimum widths). Well, for me, when I'm writing in my journal I can't get away from these "day-job-rules." The size I wrote the quotation in is one which I felt would be pleasing for the width I was going to work for the text column which I was going to roughly center on the page.

Has your head exploded yet?

Don't worry about it. I break these rules all the time in my journal. Sometimes I write very, very small, even opposite a bold sketch. I like the contrast of the small size of the text with the in-your-face drawing. And at other times I simply guess incorrectly for the size of "type" I use and the space available on the page. (When this happens the margin at the bottom of the page tends to suffer because I try to get all the text in.) In general, I tend to be able to edit my comments (if I'm not writing a quotation by someone else) to the available space and text size considerations I've determined I want to use. This comes with lots and lots of practice—practice consciously and over time a series of "this will work and this won't" criteria will come into your head in regards to filling space with text. And when all else fails, fail boldly with your text, either by scrunching, spreading, or going onto another spread. It's your journal. (Remember the Michael Caine quotation spread? Just keep working.)

Other Considerations

Sometimes you want to start your image in such a way that the entire (or almost) body of the animal or bird can fit on your spread. This plover sketch and songbird sketch are examples of that.

Alternately let's say you start with your writing. Then you're going to be whittling the space on your page spread away and using what is left over for your image. (You might remember this spread, with space reserved for a landscape, from a recent post.)

There isn't a right or wrong way to do any of this—draw first, write first—it doesn't matter. It's what you're comfortable with. If you write first you'll find yourself leaving spaces that suit the aspect of things you like to draw—portrait, landscape, square blocks. Maybe you'll find that you always put your image on the tops of your spread and run any writing you do beneath them, or vice versa (I'm an image on the top person most of the time). You might even find that upon occasion you leave too little space for your drawing and something magical happens—your drawing expands outside of the area you left for it and spreads over your writing, either obscuring the writing or becoming transparent so the writing still shows.

It's all about opportunities. We all have comfort zones and habits. If you are conscious of what yours are then you can learn. You learn by looking at paintings, books, magazines, signs, the visual journals of other people—in fact anything visual at all, including the negative space around the branches of the crab apple tree on the corner of your block! It all informs you of other possibilities that you can try. Will your attempts be as wonderful as Nature's, nope, but you'll be learning. You might decide to take a different point of view, sit on the floor and look up at a subject you normally would have drawn from standing eye level. (I can tell you that when Dottie was alive, or when there are visiting dogs napping here, I spend a lot of time standing on the couch looking down trying to get a bird's-eye-view, or sliding about on my belly, trying to get a level, on the ground view.)

The beauty of a visual journal is that every day is a master class where we get to challenge ourselves to do different things, to do better than we did the day before, the year before, a lifetime ago—as long as we make conscious choices about our comfort zones and habits and our creative decisions when we compose our page.

It may be that when a bird streaks by the only conscious decision you can make is to scribble something down, with no thought for composition or page layout. That instant might spring you out of your comfort zone or you might find that you rely on habitual placement of items just to calm yourself down enough so that you can capture the bird on your page. Either way, something wonderful is going to happen because you were in the moment. That's what journaling is about—being in the moment.

Here's something to consider: If you are going to experiment with a new medium rely on your comfort zones and habits to create experimental pages with the new medium that have some connection to how you view things—pages which don't feel totally "other." As you learn the medium and have given yourself some success, push the medium. It will be less like stepping off a cliff. Also if you start from your base, you'll find things to do with the new medium that suit you and your working methods—things you wouldn't have discovered if you had simply followed someone else's instructions.

Comfort zones and habits aren't evil (if we are consciously aware of them). They can be used to learn. And if you find yourself going stale, that sense of staleness comes from a recognition of your comfort zones and habits. Having recognized the staleness you can move out of it.

Don't know what your habits and comfort zones are? Well then you need to be journaling right now, and every day to find out what they are. Pay attention. This is where you find out about yourself, not the whiny self who is angry that Sebastian Joe's rarely sells Vanilla Chocolate Chip ice cream (more about this some other day)—but the interesting self who sees the world in a personal way as no one else sees it.

(And if you think all this talk about comfort zones and habits and journaling was a metaphor for life—well good! Conscious choices matter.)

Comments

[Liz & Borromini]

What an amazing post Roz... you seem to explain so many of the things that run through my head when I work on a page!!!
Although I don't comment much I DO so enjoy your blog!!! Thanks for all your consistent blogging!!

[Roz Stendahl]

Liz, thanks for writing in. I'm so glad you enjoyed this post and the blog!

[Jennifer Dangerfield AKA the art of curiosity]

This post is the epitome of what is perfect about your blog. You're so informative & encouraging and you reach out beyond the 'journal' with the insight of a true mentor.

I'm relatively new to your blog and am enjoying my journey through your archive immensely.

Thank you Roz; you're my daily touchstone!

[Roz Stendahl]

Jennifer, thank you for your very kind comment. Here I thought I was just being bossy!

Since you're new to my blog you might not have read my favorite post http://rozwoundup.typepad.com/roz_wound_up/2008/12/productivity-j-m-w-turner.html

I hope you'll find lots of posts to interest you. Thanks for reading.

[Jennifer Dangerfield AKA the art of curiosity]

I greatly enjoyed the Turner post & have bookmarked it so that I can return to it again & again. How lucky we are to have the resource of his sketchbooks online! And I'm now on a quest to track down a copy of the show's catalogue via AbeBooks who have rarely let me down. I guess there's always a first time though!

I hope your shoes aren't feeling too funny today ;-)

With best wishes,

Jennifer

[Roz Stendahl]

Jennifer, we are totally lucky to have Turner's sketchbooks on line!!!

I wish you success finding the show catalog I mentioned. There are many, many wonderful images in that catalog, beyond Turner's fish. I was fortunate to see the exhibition at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. To see that fish in person is still one of the most exciting moments of my life. As fun as seeing a drapery study by DaVinci in a recent show there. http://rozwoundup.typepad.com/roz_wound_up/2009/10/the-louvre-and-the-masterpiece-at-the-minneapolis-institute-of-arts.html
I bought that catalog as well! Seeing things in books isn't quite the same, but it helps to have to book if you can't see the show, or to relive the show if you get to see it.