How do I know when I'm done?

It takes a fresh eye…

Every artist (writer, musician, artisan) knows the feeling.  Unlike placing the last piece in a puzzle, or completing a crossword, the creator never knows precisely when her work is finished.  There is always room for one more brush stroke, one more adjective, one more bead.  How do we know when to quit?

Some art works have their own way of telling us that they are over-embellished or over-worked.  In watercolor painting and creating jewelry, less can be more.

I was thinking about these things today as I added beadwork to these bronze pendants that I had fired weeks ago.  Yesterday I selected the beads for each of them and spent hours trying different configurations for stringing.  Did the beads complement the stones and color in the pendants?  Were the various shapes, sizes and textures true to the style of the bronze work? 

Now notice the necklace in the center of the picture.  I strung simple amethyst beads with spacers in the middle of the strand and added larger, more colorful beads to one side.  Not sure if I liked the look, I left it lying on the workbench overnight.

This morning I looked at it with fresh eyes and saw something different: a different kind of symmetry.  The pendant is as irregular as the unfinished strand of beads, with its smooth and rough edges.  Somehow, hanging from this lop-sided strand, it seemed right.  There is something appealing about the asymmetry.  Something artistic…

Is it finished?  I’ll allow my eyes to refresh themselves again before I decide.

Is symmetry the enemy of good taste?

The German philosopher Nietzsche’s vision of hell was to be condemned to live one’s life over and over and over again into eternity. Endless repetition. Suffocating symmetry.

Of course, these things we already knew. We intuitively avoid repetition and symmetry in the landscaping of our yards, and in the organization of our flower gardens. We arrange pictures on our walls purposefully avoiding parallel lines, or any juxtaposition that would suggest geometric designs. The tiles that we lay, and the individual pieces of wood that we select when laying a floor must give the appearance of randomness.

My biggest challenge as an artist has been to ‘loosen’ my style, to allow the chaotic asymmetry of nature into my painting, jewelry, and home decorating. Organization was my personal artistic demon. It would never let my hand stray too far from perfection, or allow my mind’s eye to see into the possibilities offered by abstraction. This freedom to innovate, I had to acquire through fierce discipline.

Several weeks ago I stumbled upon an artistic device - a system for doodling, really - that seems to unlock the gates that separate symmetry and her unseemly cousin, asymmetry, allowing them to co-mingle. Zentangles enables one to begin a work of art in total chaos and randomness, then to give it structure and unity.

Pictured is a sampling of my Zentangles designs, made while watching TV one evening. The ‘templates’ for each design were objects within my field of view and the television screen. (Perhaps you will recognize our cat, Rusty.)

Next challenge: incorporating a Zentangles design in a copper etching or bas relief in bronze. I’ll keep you posted on that!