The Gooier Factor

Preface

Back in 2015, I wrote The Goo Factor, a discussion about all the fleshy details and effects the living animal intrinsically has on their bodies. So now ten years later, I've updated that discussion and added some illustrative images to help along our understanding because it's often through seeing the points discussed that we come to better grasp the concepts, right? So let's dive into this new exploration to reap more squishy insights!...

Introduction

As sculptors of equine realism, we have to balance multiple facets of the animal to recreate a convincing result in clay. Indeed, there are so many variables at play, all existing on a sliding scale of accuracy. Yet at the basis of it all are our anatomy charts, reference photos, field study, and various tidbits from our mental library, all working together to get us as close as possible to achieving that coveted goal of technical realism. As such, bony landmarks, muscle configurations, veining patterns, proportions, planes and placements, contours and angles all consume our attention to ensure we hit our mark. Conformation, breed type, gender characteristics also play their part. Gesture, expression, posture, and composition contribute their necessary qualities, too, as does technique, tool manipulation, and smoothing methods. All these things add their unique and critical touch to our work, hopefully recreating this splendid creature in as faithful a manner we can muster.

Yet there's one aspect of this animal that's so sublime and mercurial that it rarely gets its fair due. And because its qualities morph so quickly and so quirky, they literally go unseen by most. And it's no surprise why anatomy charts lack it altogether since, as a matter of course, it's typically all stripped away to reveal the coveted muscle masses and bony orientations. This element also often goes against the grain in its configurations than are shown on an anatomy chart, perhaps making some shy from expressing them in their sculpture altogether. For all these reasons, many sculptors end up overlooking it completely, focusing almost entirely on everything but this one quintessential element so critical for realism.

Yet this missing element is as important as anything else—yes—even as important as bone, muscle, tendon and ligament, planes, placement and proportion by lending realistic life and moment to flesh. Without it, in fact, it's impossible to convey the essence of living flesh altogether! So if we want to keep our sculptures from appearing too mechanical, more like postured anatomy charts rather than living, breathing beasts, this vital component is an equal imperative in our priority list.

But what is it? What's this elusive substance that goes unaddressed so universally? What could possibly have that much power in our work, yet be so ignored? What could be so critical that goes so missing?

It's goo. Yes—goo. That mushy, gooshy magical substance, that warm wonderful flesh, that glorious jiggly, gooey, squishy stuff we can call goo.

As such, goo is truly one of my most favorite things to sculpt! It's amazing how it'll kick a sculpture up to the next "living" level, ramping up the realism in such a sublime way. A feature of anatomy in the ABCs (anatomy, biomechanics and color genetics), goo is critical for a convincing equine sculpture, one that looks like an actual living animal rather than an artificial, static reproduction. Goo also pulls and pushes anatomy away from its tidy formulas we see on a chart, making flesh exist in a mercurial moment of distortion and novel expression so typical of life. Infuse this into our clay then and we create a piece with more immediacy and anima, one that doesn't exist in a "reality vacuum" of contrived formula or a habitual expression of flesh. Goo also asks us to infuse little details like whisker bumps/moles, veins, capillaries, bug bites, bumps, ripples, and other hide or skin eccentricities that compel our hand away from the contrivance of smooth, polished surfaces and more towards the look of touchable, textured, and imperfect flesh. More still, goo requires us to factor physics more into our compositions, and so we really have to start paying more attention to inertia, centrifugal force, and other forces that impact flesh in so many ways. Similarly, goo needs us to become far more sensitive to the animal as well...far far more. How so? Well, when we're able to key in on their emotional reactions and psychological responses, we can better see how all that is expressed throughout their body in muscle tension or relaxation, balance shifts, posture, bracing, or other biomechanical subtleties, and make no mistake—all that gets expressed in goo, too. So put it all together, we can call all these effects The Goo Factor.

But it doesn't end there! Goo also requires a new kind of Sight, one that actually deepens our appreciation for our craft and this lovely animal in ways that values the esoteric and quirky, things that add dimension and depth to our portfolio. As such, we'll find that infusing goo into our work also helps to really ignite our inspirations and enthusiasm in the studio in whole new ways. Really, goo just makes sculpting that much more fun! What's more, goo infusion requires us to See and interpret flesh in whole new ways, ways that will expand our understanding of anatomy, moment, sculpting technique, and even shift our artistic goals. You see, when sculpting isn't just about capturing this and that accurately, but also about exploring new ways to interpret flesh and how it can break the "rules," our job just became that much more interesting, didn't it?

So how did I have this epiphany about goo? Well, you can thank fat rats. You see, it dawned on me some years back as I was pondering how to take my sculptures beyond the lifeless illustration of an anatomy chart and into the world of fleshy, kinetic animals full of anima and immediacy. Then out of the blue...ta-da! I had a revelation of sorts, inspired by studying the goo on my plump ratties—indeed, it was all about goo! I realized I couldn’t just sculpt the muscle masses as I understood them, as they were depicted in all my anatomy charts—I had to sculpt as they existed in life, and that's very different from a static clinical chart. Flesh doesn’t just hang on the bones like an inert mass nor is it always taut and firm and precisely delineated. It has a life of its own, a morphing resonance with movement, physics, and moment which must be infused to capture that look of living realism, of the "living moment." That's to say while an anatomy chart may be tidy and perfect, Nature is everything but! Absolutely, Nature is mercurial, messy, changeable, and amoebic, it's organic with a logic all its own. It resists the human penchant for order and black-and-white thinking to instead offer us and endless spectrum of options and surprising effects. 

But even more critically, much of The Goo Factor is simply stripped away in dissection such as fat, skin, hide, fascia, and other tissues to expose the musculature and bone. What does this mean? That nearly all our anatomical references are prejudicial. Why? Because these critical gooey qualities rarely, if ever, even make it into anatomical references, in whole or in part, text or illustration, giving us only a fraction of the whole anatomical equation. This is a danger of leaning too much into our anatomical charts then—they don't tell the whole story. There are multiple need-to-know ingredients that are missing! In essence then, if we do lean into those charts too much, too literally, our sculpture will be anatomically incomplete.

What Is Goo?

No matter how fit or fat the animal, all horses have goo. But what is it exactly? Well, it entails all the flesh, really, since all flesh is essentially The Goo Factor itself. Anything that's squishy, fleshy, and deformable is goo. Basically, it's anything that's not bone or cartilage, callus, horn or hair. Going further then, it also entails all the fleshy morphing and movements, the distortions, the compressing and stretching, jiggling, the pooching and squishing, and all the other contortions and changes flesh and muscle undergo in motion and in response to physics, encapsulating the "living moment." Flesh isn't static! It reacts to movement, physics, and emotion in very mercurial, happenstance ways, often contorting and jiggling well away from the neat packages depicted on anatomy charts. For example, fleshy delineations will morph from a standing position to a moving configuration, meaning this: We cannot strictly apply a standing anatomy chart to a moving position as goo simply alters its delineations as its all shifted, squished, and activated. This makes our reference photos and life study so important by providing us the clues and guidance needed for this new territory...so lean into them. In other words, the more your sculpture depicts motion, the more you should be leaning into your references and life study and the more you should be leaning away from a static, standing anatomy chart. Really, our anatomy charts are better used as guides, as simplified, clarifying illustrations, not as gospel. We can never forget two truths about anatomy charts: 1. They were created from dead horses and, 2. they are someone's arbitrary, formulaic attempt to make contrived sense out of messy, chaotic Nature. This is why anatomy charts often differ from each other, why some have missing muscles or elements: Each author interpreted the anatomy differently. So grasp onto anatomy charts lightly.

What's more, we can think of goo as fascia, hide, skin, fat and mushy bits that lie atop and between muscles, tendons, ligaments, cartilage, horn, callous, and bone, which resonates and reacts to movement, tension, and emotion. It's all the extra bits that are so very important for giving our sculpted flesh as much real life as possible. Absolutely, just as structure is to anatomy, movement is to biomechanics, as character is to anima, as moment is to posture—goo is to flesh. It imbues character, quirkiness, life, and moment to our sculpted flesh, so with it, our sculpture will appear more alive, dynamic, more as a living, breathing, fleshy creature existing in a "living moment" rather than a reality vacuum. Because, on the other hand, without it our sculpted flesh will appear mechanical and static, as rigid and dead as an anatomical chart. Our body of work will begin to appear homogenous and predictable, too, since that's all an anatomy chart can offer us, a static, inert formula. The truth is all living horses have living goo, and so our sculptures do best to mimic that if we hope to come as close as we can to not just realism but life, or the "living moment" as well.

But granted, infusing goo isn't easy. Why? Because goo is changeable! It's squishable, mooshable, oozeable, stretchable, wrinkable, compressible, poochable, tension-able, touchable, and oh, so inviting. Don't we love to ooze the gooey parts of our pets? The gushy, warm, fleshy, soft portions like dog ears and faces and necks, and the bellies of our cats? Or the entirety of a glorious rotund rat? 

Well, horses have goo, too! Their fleshy muzzles and eyebrows are obvious examples, as are the fleshy wrinkles between their forelegs. Other examples are wrinkles and folds on the neck and at strategic areas of bending, compression, or twisting. Their muscles can be gooey as well as they distort, mush, pooch, and stretch in relation to motion. They can even jiggle, ripple, and wriggle with the physics of motion, too, or become more rigid and tense with posture, tension, or emotion, so look for all these effects in life study and references. For example, the pectorals are very changeable with posture, tension, and motion, often distorting quite a bit in the mercurial moment. And look for how the triceps can ripple and morph between relaxation and tension in motion. The neck is also quite gooshy, being amoebic in articulation, seeming to gain length when stretched and shorten when tucked. If we play close attention, too, we'll even see that neck muscles can ripple and swing in unison with inertia, say around a tight turn, or pivot, or over a jump. But just as much, also look for goo in hide and fascia detail such as on the neck, shoulders, triceps and hindquarters, for instance, and other areas of the body. Horses are rarely smooth like polished marble, they have texture and often a lot of it! So look for wrinkles, bumps, squiggles, crinkling, bug bites, and all manner of textural details on the living animal you can infuse into your clay. They're going to add so much life to your sculpture being a whole new level of realism to capture!

The Missing Factor

But there's another kind of goo often unnoticed, but vital nonetheless: Fascia. This magical stuff usually gets the short end of the stick in dissections and anatomical illustrations, being treated like a disposable connective tissue of no circumstance. But the fact is fascia is anything but disposable and inconsequential! It glues the skin on, houses the "fly shaker" muscles, binds the entire body together, wrapping around everything, giving shape and support to the muscles, suspending the organs, and creating a network of interconnected, communicating systems that responds to posture, motion, physics, injury, emotion, tension and relaxation just as much as any muscle. It's as much a part of anatomy as any muscle or bone.

Indeed, altogether, it actually constitutes the largest percentage of body tissue and is all made of collagen of varying qualities and textures. Aside from its many structural and connective functions, it also serves as heat sinks, cushions, and tissues that reduce friction and create areas of needed expansion (like around vessels, veins,  and arteries). As such, there are five basic kinds of fascia: 

1. “Spiderweb”: Acts as a supportive, connective, suspensory, shape-making network.
2. “Bubblewrap": Serves as a heat sink, reducer of friction, provider of expansion space, and is also a major kind of contouring fascia. Generally, it has a watery or often oily fluid in it, and sometimes air. For example, there's a lot of bubblewrap fascia under the scapula and around the point of shoulder to mediate all the friction.
3. “Tarp”: Non-stretchy and wraps around something such as the aponeurosis of the torso.
4. “Gel wrap”: A wrapping of jello-like consistency, its loose connective wrapping often serves as a heat sink.
5. Tensor Fascia Latae (TFL): It pops the patella off the “thumb stay” of the femur to release the Stay Apparatus to “take the patella off the hook." It also helps in lateral work by working as an abductor and a weak protractor and guards against locked stifles. Visually, it often manifests as an obvious strip from the point of hip to the stifle.

Clearly, there's much more to fascia than previously thought! Truly, it can be easily argued that fascia is as important as muscle and bone, tendon and ligament in the living animal, and so the same can be said for sculpture, too. For instance, it's often fascia that helps to give hide its various textures and character, whether at rest or in motion. Because if we pay close attention, we find that flesh has surface eccentricities we shouldn't be afraid to input as oddities in the surface of our sculptures, accentuating the appearance of living flesh. Again, ripples, bumps, stretches, wrinkles, crinkles, squiggles and other curiosities are typical of the equine hide, features that need our attention just as much as muscle and bone.

More still, paying attention to goo not only adds life to our sculpture, but it can heighten the sense of motion and moment as well. Truly, depicting skin that compresses, stretches, pooches, ripples, squiggles, jiggles, and wriggles can add kinetic features to our clay that can amplify the sense of effort, physics, centrifugal force, or speed. For example, carefully placing pooching goo in a composition can heighten the sense of moving flesh and mass, adding a sense of weight to our piece. Or for instance, adding strategic wrinkles to the hindquarter can heighten the sense of effort and motion in a trotting, cavorting, rearing, or racking piece, etc.

So What's The Hoopla With Goo? 

In a nutshell, goo adds life, or "living moment," back into our depiction of technical anatomy. Without it, structure remains mechanical, inert, and sterile; our piece will appear as a static, formulaic sculpture rather than as a living, kinetic, fleshy animal. Goo also accentuates everything else in a sculpture. For example, goo makes hard bony areas or firm muscle masses more believable because of the contrast it creates. Delicate wrinkles on a firm neck or mushy veins on hard bone really help to impart the idea of a living animal with real mass, living anatomy, and the moment's immediacy. Goo is also a blast to sculpt, with curves and gooshy features that allow an artist to play, providing a welcome contrast to the precise technical demands of realistic sculpture. And, ultimately, goo offers a deeper understanding of the structure and physics of the animal, beyond the strict mechanics of the anatomy, which can deepen our appreciation for our aesthetics and techniques, and even better, for the beauty of this lovely creature, too.

The truth is that anatomy is the blueprint—yes—but without imbued life, a sculpture is simply a representational, formulaic facsimile of that blueprint. This is fine unless we really want to capture that rare anima that brings our sculpture to life, that adds that living energy beyond simple representation. Because we must remember that every anatomical chart ever conceived was created from dead horses that probably had their goo removed so unless we compensate, our work based on those charts will be equally lifeless and incomplete. Part of that compensation is factoring in goo, that peculiar nature of flesh, to instill vitality back into our clay. Because if we step back and really think about it, we see that the living animal doesn't move like an articulated anatomy chart, like a jointed paper doll. This is because the animal's bony anatomy is encapsulated in goo which compresses and stretches, expands, pooches and mooshes, comes under tension or relaxes in tandem with articulation, emotion, and physics. Like just study how powerful inertia is on the rippling of muscles and flesh alone when the critter is really cavorting around!

So What Kinds Of Goo Are There?

What kinds of goo exist? Well, a lot! Wherever there’s something fleshy and mooshy, there’s goo. So to get your exploration started, look for these kinds of goo, for example:

• Wrinkles: These are folds of skin, either small and delicate or rather bulbous, in larger rolls. They can appear on the neck, throatlatch, between the ears, between the forelegs, on the pastern when flexed, in the elbow area, on the flanks, on the hindquarter or were the buttock meets the back of the gaskin when the hindleg is flexed or extended, on the barrel, and really everywhere compression, stretching, or bending happens. They're also common on the face, such as around the ears, the brows, lips, and muzzle, and that wonderful squishy chin. Studying the living animal and photos will reveal that wrinkles are very common and can appear in the most unexpected places. Because wrinkles are folds of skin, they can also be more substantial like those on the crest of a Welsh Cob stallion or Drafter, or sometimes on the torso if the horse is really bending around, perhaps to scratch an itch. And it doesn’t matter if a horse is wiry or pudgey, various types of wrinkles always occur, and so infusing them into our sculpture will do wonders for adding life's texture and moment.
• Squiggles: Textural goo can show up as crinkling or squiggles on the face, neck, chest, shoulder, tricep area, and sometimes the lower haunch, flank and elbow areas, so look for it in field study and in references.
• Strap marks: Sometimes on the barrel, longitudinal delineations can be seen so look for them in references and life study.
• Pock marking: The nostril flare surface texture can have pocked, pebbled appearance at times, especially if that area has been closely clipped or is in a slick summer coat.
• Depressions and concavities: Goo also manifests itself in the depressions and concavities muscle contours assume, especially when in motion, as the flesh is compressed, stretched, gooshed, pushed, pulled and pooched, forming dips and channels that don’t exist when the horse is simply standing. Remember, the horse is a 3D animal and so his muscles don’t simply move over each other, they also dip in and out and smoosh and shift around each other during contraction or relaxation, or in response to physics and motion. That is to say, muscles don’t only move back and forth and up and down, they also move in and out. This kind of goo does amazing things for sculpture by instilling a sense of mass and fleshiness, keeping it from becoming a “flattened” technical depiction of anatomy we see in a diagram. Truly, muscles aren't stiff, fixed masses, but kinetic and squishy, dynamic features, producing lovely surface contours as they react to each other, tension, and the physics of motion. 
• Sliding skin: The skin isn’t attached to the muscles or bone on the whole of its inner surface as though natured coated it with spray adhesive. Rather, skin is tacked down by fascia at random points, allowing the skin to slide over muscles or bony areas with relative ease. And the more mobile an area, the more likely the skin is slide-able over that area. For example, the skin on the elbow has a lot of sliding ability, which you can watch every time a horse lifts his foreleg. Also look for this effect on the ribs, stifle, and shoulder. Like watch how a horse flexes his hindleg and see how the stifle slides under the skin, or when a horse breaths deeply, how his ribs slide back and forth and out and in underneath the skin. 
• Amoeba: When studying motion, it’s important not to interpret the body as moving like a stick-figure or an articulated paper doll. Granted, movement occurs at the joints and those joints have parameters for articulation and the bones have their fixed dimensions, but within those parameters is life, the "living moment." That means it’s a mistake to think only of the skeleton and forget that its cloaked in flesh that smooshes, pooches, and stretches during articulation. This is the amoebic nature of flesh and understanding this concept is essential for "living realism." For example, notice how a deeply flexed hindleg will cause the gaskin to smoosh into the hindquarter musculature, with all sorts of wrinkles and gooshing? The skeleton does articulate, yes, but it doesn't do so in a vacuum! Always remember that it does so enveloped in glorious goo! Which leads to…
• Distortion: Because the skeleton is buried in flesh that morphs, when it articulates, muscle bellies are stretched, compressed, and pooched, distorting away from their normal appearance when standing. And the less an area is characterized by subcutaneous bone, the more this distortion can happen. Indeed, one of the most lovely and interesting aspects of sculpting movement is how the flesh changes in response. The neck, pectorals, shoulder, triceps, and hindquarter are typically the sites of the most distortion, so observe them on real horses to get a better understanding of just how much this effect comes into play when interpreting motion. But also study the barrel as the flesh there is highly responsive to moment and motion as well.
• Stretching: Flesh stretches and can often stretch a lot. Clear examples of this can be seen in the elbow and flank area as those little skin flaps that stretch when the limb is extended. Another clear example is the skin overlaying the girth and triceps area, which can be seen to stretch when that forearm really extends forwards. Also muscle bellies can be stretched during extension, which is easily observed around the shoulder and hinquarter when the respective legs are extended forwards or backwards, or in the pectoral area, when the forelegs are abducted, for instance.
• Compression: The opposite of stretching is compression, and flesh definitely undergoes that! For example, study neck goo when the neck is tucked as compared to stretched out, or the hindquarter muscles when the hindleg is greatly articulated in a bend as compared to being extended out. And where you find compression, you usually find wrinkles of some kind, and especially pooching and distorted flesh, so pay attention to that in your life study and references.
• Muscle resonance: This sublime manifestation of goo occurs when inertia acts upon relaxed portions of flesh, making them jiggle and wiggle, flop or ripple in resonance to the physics of movement. For instance, look for a bowed posterior portion of the forearm on an extended foreleg because the flexor muscles are relaxed, or how the triceps goo and hollow and ripple when relaxed, or the sternomandibularis muscles jiggling, rippling, or bowed due to the inertia of a sharp turn or spin, or how a hefty crest can wobble or jiggle with the physics of motion or the pull of the mane's weight. Our eye often misses these moments, but when our Eye is honed, we'll be able to observe such effects in living horses and then in photos. They add a wonderful touch to sculpture!

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Tips For Infusing The Goo Factor

Ok, so now that we know about goo, let's get it into our clay. To that end, here are some tips: 

• We should know our anatomy. Goo can distort or hide anatomical structures, so if we’re going to learn about goo, we have to first know about anatomy first otherwise we'll get confused. We have to learn the rules before we can tweak them!
• Life study is a must. We cannot learn about goo by simply studying photos or anatomical diagrams. We have to study the living animal and spend a lot of focused time observing how living flesh behaves and feels. 
• Don’t overdo. The sculpture will look odd if we make the effects too extreme by getting carried away and therefore making your hard bone or cartilage even appear gooey, for example. The trick is to find an interpretation that gets the point across that’s both technically accurate and artistically pleasing. 
• Know your goo. Work to identify the different types of goo and under what circumstances they appear. For example, wrinkles are always present in one place or another while amebic goo mostly occurs around areas of flexion or extension. Also, several types of goo may happen simultaneously, such as wrinkle with concavities and distortions so also pay attention to cumulative effects. 
• Remember what goo is. Always keep in mind that goo is pliable flesh that squishy, soft, and warm. It’s seductive and alluring and begs to be touched. So we need to keep the goo in our sculpture fleshy and soft looking, avoiding methods that would make it appear harsh, sharp, regimented, or mechanical. That's to say our goo shouldn't look like joint wrinkles on an artificial limb, for instance. In other words, wrinkles shouldn't be regimented or have "plateau tops" because they were just cut in, but have rounded tops and squishy asymmetries in their formation.
• Preplan your goo. Because goo is an integral part of our finished sculpture, it’s important to consider how it’s applied. For example, large bundles of rippling, delineated muscle on a Quarter Horse are fun, but aren't always accurate on a smooth-bodied Arabian. Jiggling muscles on a standing sculpture will look strange as would static goo on a moving sculpture. So identify the appropriate types of goo and the necessary degree needed for it to complement our sculpture while still conveying reality. 
• Think in terms of curves. Lean away from straight lines and straight planes when sculpting muscle masses. Horses are made of flesh, not polished sheet metal.
• Details count. Veins, whisker bumps/moles, bumps, bug bites, and pebbly or squiggly hide textures contribute to the illusion of fleshiness, so instill them when appropriate.
• Notice how goo stacks on top of each other sometimes. Like veins can run across areas of squiggly texture or some wrinkles can have bug bites on them.
• Goo has a cumulative effect as the addition of each new type of goo adds more complexity and realism to a piece. So don't rely on just one type of goo to carry the sculpture. Look for and infuse as much as you can into the piece as suggested by life study and your references.
• Tackle goo in stages. In other words, you don't have to infuse it all in at once. Think about what can be done in a more controlled sequence for the best results. For instance, perhaps wrinkling and pock marking can be done alongside the sculpting stages while veining and whisker bumps can be completed as a last stage on the hard copy of a sculpture.
• Note how some goo is really obvious like wrinkling or dipped or pooching contours while other goo is more subtle like crinkling and squiggling. So "adjust the volume" on your goo for the most realistic result.
• Study other artists. Taking note on how other artists sculpturally express goo will help us decide how we wish to approach it in our work. 
• Study horses in short summer coats or clipped coats for a better idea of all the kinds of goo you'll encounter. And be sure to study goo on the different ages and breeds, too, as they can influence the nature of goo. For instance, a thin-skinned Teke will often exhibit a lot more skin goo factors than a "thicker skinned" draft horse, or foals can have a lot deeper depressions in their muscle masses when they move because they lack obscuring fat.

Because of its fleshiness, sculpting goo can be tricky. So for a head start, avoid these common missteps:

• Wrinkle bundling: Characterized by a discreet bundle of tidy wrinkles, tightly amassed around an articulated area and possessing a definite border between the wrinkles and the surrounding unwrinkled flesh. In reality, wrinkles fade in and out and often blend gently with the surrounding flesh with no real border; it’s often very chaotic, messy, and gradual. 
• "Topped" or "plateau" wrinkles: When the tops of the wrinkles aren't rounded, but flattened because they were quickly cut into the surface without the edges being knocked down, rounded, and smoothed.
• Accordion wrinkles: When the wrinkling is too regimented when in reality, wrinkles often vary in thickness, length, and orientation, and can fold within each other or stack on top of each other, creating asymmetries in the wrinkle pattern. So each wrinkle shouldn't be the same size or width nor should they be evenly spaced and regimented. In life, wrinkles are much more chaotic. Remember, a wrinkle is a bit of folded, soft flesh, and so our sculpted hide shouldn't behave like a segmented accordion. Always work from references when sculpting them.
• Slashing: Again, a wrinkle is folded flesh, so we should try to avoid tooling that causes a slashed, harsh, sharp, topped, or grooved look. Keep them rounded, soft, and squishy looking.
• Channeling: Muscle masses are rounded and curved, and so the defining grooves between them are often softer and more mercurial than anatomy charts depict. So we should avoid tooling that creates a harshly carved groove into the clay to denote muscle definition, with sharp edges and lacking that rounded, amoebic, softened nature of living muscle masses. 
• Excess: So much about recreating convincing goo is knowing when to apply it and when not to, and in which areas and why, and in what varied intensity best gets the point across. If we don't apply goo, our sculpture will appear too static whereas if we apply too much, it'll appear lumpy and odd. Goo is a very powerful element to our sculpture so be clear and strategic when applying it.
• Too Harsh: The thing about goo is this—it's softened and usually subdued (with the exception of wrinkles). So lean into subtlety rather than sculpting goo too obviously and in too amplified a manner across the board. 
• Incorrect planing, proportions, or placement: No amount of well sculpted goo can compensate for errors in structure. So before you apply goo or texture, be sure your underlying anatomy and biomechanics are correct.

Methods For Sculpting Goo

There are certain tricks we can apply to our clay to help the goo sculpting fun along. Here are some techniques to get you started:

• When sculpting wrinkles, lay down a sheet of thickish plastic (like the clear plastic on bread packaging) onto your clay and sculpt the wrinkles on top of that, pushing the plastic sheet into the clay. The plastic sheet will round the tops of the wrinkles for you and result in a nice fleshy look. Then gently peel it up, clean up and detail out a little bit, and voilá! (If sculpting in epoxy clay, use plastic wrap instead, or some sort of thinner plastic because epoxy clay is often softer than oil clay or ceramic clay.)
• You can sculpt wrinkles in by adding tiny, skinny snakes and then softening and blending with solvents and brushes. Which brings us to...
• Use a smoothing solvent and soft brushes (in rounds and filberts) to smooth gooey areas to preserve their soft, fleshy look. For ceramic clay, use clean water. For oil clay, use turpenol: 60% turpenoid and 40% 91% rubbing alcohol. For epoxy clay, use 91% rubbing alcohol.
• To create the crinkly texture on the neck, shoulders, triceps and sometimes on the lower haunch, use your sculpting tool to squish in networks of little Figure-8s and tiny circles and squiggles, then gently smooth and melt them into the surface with your solvent and brushes. You can leave strategic bumps, too, to add to the textural interest.
• To create veins, use messo and a skinny round brush with long bristles. Messo is a mixture of 60% Modeling Paste (Liquitex works well) and 40% gesso (Liquitex gesso works well), thinned with water to the consistency of milk and "beaded" on with the brush. That's to say, draw your vein on with a tip held perpendicular to the surface to create an elongated beading of messo.
• When the messo is the consistency of heavy cream, you can dab on tiny whisker bumps with this stuff, too. (When it's unthinned with water, you can use it to dab on and texturize chestnuts and ergots.)
• Don't be so eager to "outline" muscles to delineate them. Instead, hint at their outlines when you can with strategic dips and concavities rather than with grooves.
• To create neck texture, slide your sculpting tool side to side from crest to the underline to create randomized small squiggly ridges and subtle squiggly grooves, then melt and smooth them a bit with your solvent and brushes to quiet them. You can even go back in with messo on the hard copy master to add more details like bumps and amplified ridges and ripples.
• Study how wrinkling manifests on the brows, lips, muzzle, and between the nostrils, and try to input that—in scale—on your sculpture, using your solvent and brushes to smooth and soften.
• Try different tools for creating wrinkles. Often something as simple as a pointed toothpick or a sharpened pencil works well, but small blade tools are also handy.
• When sculpting wrinkles in epoxy clay, soften and goo-ify the clay by mixing in some 91% rubbing alcohol and kneading it in, creating more of a doughier, stickier texture. Then use this softened epoxy clay to sculpt in the wrinkles. Why? Because this softened epoxy clay is less prone to tear or pill when you sculpt in the wrinkles. So to do that, place a little blob of this softened epoxy clay in the area you wish then blend the edges into the surrounding areas. Then take your tool and carefully cut in your wrinkles, more concerned about not tearing them up as you sculpt them. Dip you tool into more 91% rubbing alcohol often to lubricate the process. Then when you have your wrinkles configured how you want them, use brushes and the rubbing alcohol to smooth and soften them. Then as the epoxy starts to stiffen in its cure, you can strategically define and deepen them as you wish.
• When sculpting in pock marks or puckering, such as on the muzzle or nostril area, poke in a multitude of gentle bumps with a pointed sculpting tool like a sharpened pencil then soften by gently stipling the area with a brush dampened slightly in solvent.
• Sculpting texture into your smooth surfaces can seem very uncomfortable at first, but persist! What you're working against is the "blank canvas" effect where you don't want to mar your perfect surface. However, the more textural touches you add, the more natural and living your fleshy surfaces will appear, so keep at it.

How To Study Goo

It's important to understand that goo isn't the same over the entire body. Different areas have different kinds of goo, or textures, at different intensities. For instance, the goo on the muzzle is fleshy and velvety as compared to the goo in the elbow area which is very squishy, smooshy, and silken. Or the goo textures on the neck can be a little bit different from that on the triceps area, the former often having more of a bumpy, ridged look while the latter usually has more of a squiggly, pebbly finish. Also look for different sizes of wrinkles over different areas on the body. For instance, the wrinkles at that throatlatch can be larger than those around the ear. But also note that wrinkles even with a "bundle" vary in size and length, too, so avoid regimentation like an accordion. Mix them up and vary them for a more natural, fleshy look.

Field study is ideal for studying goo! So get out there and study the living animal up close. For example, watching horses in turn-out or on the lunge-line is a good start by creating a focused situation. Pay particular close attention to the shoulders, throatlatch, forearms, elbow area, hindquarter, neck, ears, lips, chest, genitals, crest, and barrel. Look for the compressions, stretching, pooching, dips, wrinkling, wiggling, jiggling, rippling movement with each stride and phase of movement on the horse’s body. Slow motion video is also a great way to study how goo resonates with motion, how it morphs and distorts, ripples and jiggles in synch with the motion, emotion, force, and the moment of the horse’s movement.

Now if you can and the horse is willing, feel the goo with your hands, over various parts of the body. Like feel the different textures and firmness levels then gently press in the musculature to get a sense of standing muscle tonus and feel it tense up or relax as the horse shifts their balance or moves. Programming the textural gooey qualities and differences into our hands is a highly effective means to learn them.

Then when that's under your belt, turnaround and attempt to decipher and identify goo in photos. This type of training can train us about goo very quickly, better enabling us to imbue it into our clay. In fact, we’ll discover that goo is a whole new level of understanding that deepens our appreciation of equine anatomy and lends interest and life to our sculpture in ways otherwise unattainable.

Play around with your sculpting materials and tools. Practice at sculpting wrinkles, for example, on junker models to perfect their qualities. Learn to use your tools in new ways to create the dips and distortions so typical of activated flesh. Hone your Eye to break your own safe formulas and habits in order to decipher and depict morphing flesh more authentically. And trust the process! Sometimes infusing goo can feel odd when sculpting because it's so distorted from the safe formulas of an anatomy chart or our habitual ways of depicting musculature, but dive in all the same and trust that it'll make sense in the end. The fact is that reality can look odd, but that oddness is intrinsic to the "living moment," of life itself, and that can be just the touch of unapologetic factuality our sculpture needs.

Conclusion

Anyone can apply anatomical charts and diagrams to copy the anatomy faithfully into sculpture. That's relatively easily done with a bit of discipline and gumption. But it takes a new kind of understanding to mimic the life of that anatomy to capture and reinstate the nature of living flesh. Indeed, an anatomy chart is one thing, but living flesh is entirely another. If we want to kick our work up a notch in the realism department then, we need to know the difference.

And it's the understanding of goo that helps us transcend the inert lifelessness of a literal technical interpretation by adding character, moment, and life to that anatomical base. It brings the "living moment" back into the equation to communicate the mass, anima, moment, and movement of the animal in ways a strict technical expression will fail to convey. In doing so, we've gone one step closer to capturing living reality in our clay, expressing this lovely animal more completely and faithfully. So, until next time, have fun fleshing out goo in your clay!

"I search for the realness, the real feeling of a subject, all the texture around it...I always want to see the third dimension of something...I want to come alive with the object."

—Andrew Wyeth

The Gooier Factor

A New View: Transforming Intimidation Into Inspiration

Introduction

We’ve all been there: Sitting there, full of self-doubt and anxiety at the mere thought of creating a new piece that intimidates us, perhaps even intimidated by arting altogether. Maybe somehow our confidence got shook, maybe we’ve taken a too long a break from arting and we feel rusty, maybe we think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew, maybe other artists seem to have raised the bar beyond our assumed capabilities, maybe we’re trying a new medium or process…any number of reasons can put us here. The hard truth is though that self-doubt is part of the arting process because we’re human after all. It’s just something we have to live with and work through, time and again. Yet it can interfere with our inspirations and motivations, raising its ugly head sometimes in unpredictable ways, and so we must be ready to fight for our creativity to prevail. And your arting is worth the fight! Your art is singular in all of space and time, always novel and always fresh. Conformity may be a real social pressure, assembly lines crank out homogeneity, and fast food specializes in uniformity, but your art is absolutely unique in all existence from the beginning to the end of time. Think about that for a second, how important and special that is. Don’t knock it and never forget it!

In the spirit of salvaging that specialness inside of you then, let’s explore some ways to convert that intimidation into inspiration, into a driving motivation that railroads right over that roadblock, with energizing joy and unstoppable enthusiasm. So let’s just get right into it!…

The Strategies 

It’s often recommended that you study the work of others to gain some insights and inspiration from the challenges met in other works. And that’s very good advice, granted. However, indulge this too much or in the wrong frame of mind and instead you’ll find yourself intimidated and feeling like you come up short. “Comparison is the death of joy,” said Mark Twain, and he was absolutely right. So be sure to spend more time creating your own art rather than looking at the work of other artists. Stop doom scrolling through studios! Your energy is best spent immersed in your own studio, cranking out your unique vision rather than punishing yourself. Remember that you have your own unique magic — you don’t need the magic of anyone else! Your magic is just as legit and wondrous, so embrace it and never take it for granted. Root yourself there and you’ll provide a rich, nurturing bed for your inspiration to grow and flourish.

Break the process down into baby steps, into achievable, realistic goals. Our art form is pretty demanding, and so many of our methods are complicated and quite labored, and therefore rather intimidating, even mystifying, especially for beginners. But if we simplify things in a step-by-step way rather than having to take it in all at once, we can really make the whole kit n’ kaboodle a lot more logistically accessible. Also try this visualization trick — imagine yourself completing the task three steps ahead. That sorta gives you a pre-loaded reward for a job well done and can really help to keep your motivation fueled forwards.

Are you struggling with a fear of failure? Worried the outcome won’t match your expectations? Crippled by perfectionism? Welcome to life as an artist. The vision in our head is almost always better than the finished product — that’s just how visions work. Plus, we aren’t Nature so we can't create absolute technical authenticity, a perfect horse, no matter how hard we try. Only DNA can do that. Then we have our blindspots and knowledge gaps because that’s a function of our perception, plus there's our insecurities, biases, and quirks because we’re fallible human beings. It all stacks up into this truth: "Perfection" is a moving goalpost so ease up chasing it. Give yourself permission to be you. And that’s what makes art so fascinating, vibrant, beautiful, and human, doesn’t it? The truth is, too, no artist ever is truly fully satisfied with their work. It’s that “divine dissatisfaction” that Martha Graham spoke of. It’s simply the nature of arting. Plus, at some point down the road, growth will happen and we’ll look back on our previous works and inevitably see areas that could have been done better or differently. There's no getting around that. "It's an inevitability, Mr. Anderson." So rather than letting that fear of failure stop us, just jump in and create art anyway! Darn the torpedoes and just dive in, head first, embracing the uncertainty in the spirit of exploration, creative joy, and learning. So rather than fixate on perfection and all the anticipated flaws in our work, fixate instead on discovery and curiosity. Because — yeah — we’re going to make mistakes. That’s simply the nature of creating art, making mistakes. It’s how we learn, it’s how we improve, it’s how we grow and stretch. In this light then, mistakes are really our best pathways to progress, aren’t they? So just make them and fix them as you go! That’s the beauty of art and mistakes — you’re the creator, right? You can un-create and re-make anything you concoct! You always have re-dos at your disposal! "The most valuable thing you can make is a mistake — you can't learn anything from being perfect," said Adam Osborne, and he's spot on. "And when you get over that fear of making a mistake, then it becomes fun," revealed Bob Ross. Right on the money! So never be afraid of making a mistake or of pulling up short because if you allow all that to take over, you won’t art at all, will you? “Fear kills more dreams than failure ever will,” said Suzy Kassem, and she’s absolutely right. So work through that discomfort to find that moxie inside of you and just go full bore — you owe it to yourself. And even more, you owe it to your art. Your art is depending on you to make it real, waiting patiently inside of you, eager. So go forth and create the awesome! Worry about everything else later. 

Recommended reading: 

The Perfectionist Paradox

Demonslaying Parts I-VI

Moving Forwards With Fear

Vision Conniptions: Managing Our Mind's Eye In Art

Fear of criticism is a real art-stopper, no doubt. I actually know some would-be artists who don’t art simply because of their fear of negative feedback, of public opinion. “There is nothing more vulnerable than creativity,” said Brené Brown. She goes onto also share, "Vulnerability is the birthplace of creativity. To create is to make something that has never existed before. There is nothing more vulnerable than that." So laying ourselves bare is literally a prerequisite. And that makes arting a precious yet precarious proposition, doesn’t it? Really, every day all artists wrestle with this phenomenon in some way, especially when they debut new work or post in-progress images. Truly, the visceral reaction the public has to our work can truly kick us in the gut in a literal way. It can be devastating. It can be art-ending for some. “Creativity takes courage,” said Henri Matisse. Indeed. A lot of it. Brené further reveals, “There's no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don't. Unused creativity doesn't just disappear. It lives within us until it's expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear.” Don’t let this happen to you — be brave. It’s hard, and make no mistake, it never gets easier. The public is the public and there’s no taming that shrew. But you can still construct a creative life that’s joyful and fulfilling regardless, so focus on your fishbowl, on your bubble, and nevermind the rest. As Georgia O’Keeffe wisely said, “I have already settled it for myself so flattery and criticism go down the same drain and I am quite free.” That’s the creative headspace we need to dwell in, that detached centerpoint where our own opinion of our work is really the only thing that matters. If we love it, if we love creating it, if it brings us joy and satisfaction, who cares about the rest, right? It’s just noise. And never forget this: For every malcontent out there, there are many others who like your work so focus on them instead. Honestly, those dissing your work are probably not even your collectors anyway, are they? So why waste energy on paying attention to them when that energy is better spent on your actual collectors. So hold this quote from Brené Brown close to heart: “If you aren’t in the arena also getting your ass kicked, I’m not interested in your opinion.” Bingo! Create for yourself first. As Rick Rubin wisely advises, "The audience comes last." So reframe affirmation away from what people think about it and towards what satisfaction you derived from creating it and you’ll have an unstoppable surge of inspiration and motivation sweep over your efforts. You are more talented than you know and more capable than you think, so find your courage not only for your sake, but the sake of your art. Never let someone’s ugliness tarnish your shine—glow bright! And really, that’s the best rebuttal to any criticism isn’t it? Simply living your best creative life to the fullest, so toss those curls and art on!

Recommended reading:

The Critic in the Creative Space

Pickled Art

Arting In A Bubble: An Empowering Way To Create Art

Recommended listening:

The Power Of Vulnerability - Brené Brown

Why Your Critics Aren't The Ones Who Count - Brené Brown

Your Elusive Creative Genius - Elizabeth Gilbert

Success, Failure And The Drive To Keep Creating - Elizabeth Gilbert

On the other hand, for some it’s a very real fear of success and the insidious imposter syndrome. Was the success a fluke? Can you keep up that standard that made you famous in the first place? Or are you just a one-hit wonder? Anticipating disappointment is a powerful brew of trepidation and insecurity, yet even the most confident artists can wrestle with it from time to time. It’s a very human condition, indeed. But it’s also what keeps us hungry and stretching, doesn’t it? Spin it in that light and instead it becomes useful fuel, a mechanism of progress, exploration, and innovation. Honestly, it’s good to not be completely confident and comfortable in what we’re doing. It’s good to have a dose of uncertainty and doubt. It inspires us forwards as only it can, seeking exploration and the limitless edges of our potential. So rather than worry if you’re a one-hit wonder, if what you accomplished was only an accident — really, who cares? Does arting bring you joy? Does it fulfill essential parts of you? If so, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Again, just darn those torpedoes and forge ahead, full steam! Everything else really is useless noise. And wabi-sabi, baby! Truly then, when we create from this position of power, we’ll find a new kind of detachment that ushers in a new confidence, authority, authenticity, and freedom that engages us with our arting even more. Honestly, when we no longer care whether we “succeed” or “fail,” whatever that means, and just do art, new and better gears are engaged that actually improve our entire experience and sometimes even our outcomes. "Don't think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it's good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art," said Andy Warhol. Yes...just make your art! That's always the right answer.

Recommend reading:

Redefining Success: Some Thoughts On True Accomplishment 

If you’re stuck, rather than take on some grandiose project with a lot of stops and starts, instead make arting a creative routine, even if just for 30 minutes a day in small bites. By creating a deliberate habit, by purposely setting aside time for it, that forces you to engage with your art to get those gears gearing. And that’s the important bit because the truth is inspiration has to find you working! If you simply wait for inspiration to strike, you’ll probably be waiting a long time. Because that’s not really how it works. See, the big secret with inspiration is that working generates inspiration, not the other way around so much. Sure, that Muse can strike us out of nowhere, but the thing is, it’s the work itself, the act of arting, that causes a lot more unlimited inspirations to well up inside of us. One idea feeds on the next and if we’re really feeding that mechanism, it can spin out of control into an inspirational clusterbomb of new ideas that fill up our sketchbooks as we try to capture them all. So if you’re feeling uninspired — do art. If you’re feeling stuck in your creativity — do art. Creating your art is always — always — the correct answer to the problem.

Feeling a little burned out? A bit uninspired? Tired of what you’re doing? Well, try something new! Feed your curiosity! Absolutely, trying a new medium or process, exploring a new body type or breed, delving into novel new compositions and concepts, or playing around with any number of experimental approaches can reignite that inspiration patiently waiting inside of you. In that spirit then, think about taking classes and workshops, or go on an artist retreat or art-based trip. There are few things that are more rejuvenating for art than exploring new creative territory! It’s often just the ticket to firing up that artistic bonfire, full ablaze! And the new thing doesn't have to be obvious either...anything creative will do! So, for instance, if making enameled jewelry has piqued your interest lately — do it! The point is to just get those creative gears going in any direction! And remember, any form of creativity counts! Beading, photography, wheel clay throwing, journaling, sewing, flatwork, writing, bookmaking, cosplay, gardening, cooking, creative writing, music, jewelry making, candle making, soap making, scrapbooking, stained-glass — all of it counts. And don't worry about it! Everything else will come later, but in this moment, "follow your bliss" as Joseph Campbell would say.

Establish new goals with your art insofar as let your art create and develop new connections, experiences, achievements and such rather than always focusing on just getting better at the craft. When we make art also about what art can do for us and for others, it becomes bigger and more engaging, doesn’t it? In that light then, think about writing informative articles or blog posts to help others along in their artistic explorations. Consider hosting a class or workshop or demo. Create educational videos or podcasts. Make your art about more than simply the process of arting, make it about the experience of living an artistic life, too, in the spirit of helping others with their creative experiences. And honestly, there are few things that’ll expose a gap in your knowledge base than having to teach or write about it! What a tremendous opportunity to delve into continued learning which can certainly reenergize your inspiration, huh? Likewise, think about answering a question with your art, like “what if…?” or “Why would…?” or “Maybe if that…?” When we reframe our motivations away from “it has to be perfect” and more towards an exploratory answer to a pointed question, when we design our work based on curiosity rather than carping, our paradigm shifts into something a bit less draconian and pressurized which can really help quell intimidation. Reorienting our efforts towards being a learner also asks us to be more forgiving of ourselves and our efforts and therein lies the license to stretch more in any direction, accelerating this effect.

Indulge in a no-pressure, all-fun fresh creative outlet, even one wildly different than our demanding and unforgiving art form. For instance, I regularly visit a paint-and-sip place for two low-key hours of super fun, no pressure creative play. With no real expectations other than enjoyably smearing pigment on a canvas, this sort of thing is wonderful escapism, like an engaging artistic mini-vacation that allows me to surprise myself once and a while. Likewise, I approach my NaReViMo horses much the same way. They’re pure creative escapism with very little pressure for perfectionism placed on myself, resulting in a lighter, more low-key experience that’s nice to indulge every August. They're really kinda like customized doodling, that level of casual, exploratory fun in 3D. And here's the thing: Doodling has been proven to be highly beneficial in many ways, including revving up the creative drive and sustaining it. Because not everything you create has to be a masterpiece! Quit putting that kind of pressure on your creativity! Sometimes it just wants to mess around rather than run an F1 race every time out. Give your creativity room to breathe, to play, and relax. Let it futz around and find out. Because, absolutely, doodling is still art, art that's full of a unique energy and novelty that makes it so immediate, revealing, exploratory. And doodling can do a lot to inspire new concepts and directions — so doodle to jumpstart new compositions! Why? Because you’ll find that once that energy of arting takes over, even in the simplest terms, it regenerates itself and primes the pump, melting away many intimidations or hesitations you may be suffering. Arting simply inspires more arting like a perpetual motion machine and if those gears are humming along again with no-pressure creativity, we remember what that feels like, don’t we? We experience those wonderful feelings again of simply playing around with our creativity, and what sort of fear stands a chance against that? And when we learn to surprise ourselves again, our confidence grows, our moxie increases, and our boldness bursts forth to bash right through any intimidations that were holding us back. Even better, this inspires our curiosity which then ignites our imaginations, and new inspirations aren't far behind in that triggered mechanism!

When you start to feel intimidated or fearful in your arting, also just remember that nothing is precious. In other words, everything is often changeable in your artwork and anything about your process and therefore your outcome can be altered. You don’t have to be married to any decision most of the time. You can indeed change your mind and you can alter any aspect of your piece in most cases. “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts,” said Winston Churchill. Always leave yourself open to changing your mind — it’s okay.

On that note, if you feel weighted down by negativity stopping your creativity, understand the negative bias hardwired in our brains. It may be persistent, yes, but it doesn’t tell you the truth. What is this? It’s the feedback system that forces us to fixate on those negative experiences that may have impacted our survival in our distant past. But while it may have served us well previously in evolution, today when it comes to art—wow—is it a burden. How so? Well, it compels us to focus on the few nasty comments that invariably pop up to the exclusion of all all else, even amidst all the kudos and congratulations we earn. Then it replays those negative comments in our heads on repeating loop, louder than the positivity. So even if our public response is 99% praise, that 1% will stick with us stronger, creating a seriously skewed sense of achievement. In short, the negative bias gives us a mistaken idea of where we stand, and gosh, that can be crippling! As such, it’s often just a better idea to ignore comments all together, if possible, or find a way to process that 1% out of your life with coping mechanisms. Being so, pruning haters or other problematic people from your social media with blocking or filters is a smart move, too. Point being, the amplification of negative feedback in your head is simply an automated system not aligned with creativity. It’s meant for bare bones survival, not for something like subjective, sensitive, and mercurial arting. Keep it in perspective then so focus on all the kudos instead, all the positivity coming your way. It’s not only more worthy of your attention, but it’s healthier for you and your art as well. And never forget, critics don't hold some secret knowledge! They aren't exclusively more "in the know." They simply have their opinion which is as disposable in the grand scheme of things as yesterday's garbage. They don't know your Truth and they have their own knowledge gaps, blindspots, and biases, and so they aren't infallible. So never get lulled into the notion that they know The Right Way. See here's the thing: In art, there are many Right Ways, including yours, which is actually more valid and legitimate than anyone else's....because you're the artist. Your Vision simply overrides that of everyone else when it comes to the nature of your own work. This is your art, your rules, so don't hand anyone power who has no business in that equation. Because only you know the Truth of your experience and your Vision so stay true to it and yourself, and you're well on your way to re-finding your creative joy!

We all know we’re our own worst critic, right? No one is more brutal than we are on ourselves most times. So always be very careful with the pressures you put on yourself because if you aren’t, you can soon find yourself trembling in a proverbial corner, all trepidation and little motivation. Ease up on yourself, you're doing better than you think. To that end, never forget that every artist has bad days and good days, bad weeks and good weeks, bad months and good months. Things can ebb and flow so give yourself room for grace. See, when you loosen up and allow yourself to engage your art in a more low-key, less pressured way, too, the fun will start to peek out — grab it and go with it. Creating art should first be fun, not created in a pressure pot! So if you start to feel intimidated by your own expectations, find the fun parts of your process and focus on those more and reward yourself for every little triumph. And don't forget, there's no such thing as "perfection," that's an illusion. All there truly is is your best effort but only you have the autonomy to decide how far that goes, so make sure you exercise that judgment call in a healthy and compassionate manner with yourself.

Embrace the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, the acceptance of imperfection and impermanence. Here we find more emphasis on experiencing the process of making our art, of living in the creative moment, rather than being so focused on the perfect outcome. We also give ourselves room to be fallible human beings once more, accepting the imperfections in our work as simply part of the magic of making art. Now yes, we work in equine realism where things have to be as technically correct as possible, but there's still room for grace for ourselves, isn't there? No one is creating perfect equines! Only Nature can do that. So go ahead and stretch for that brass ring, but don't fall off your proverbial carousel horse doing so. Hold on tight to those things about arting that bring your joy and enjoy the process of making your art just as much as your successful outcomes. The journey is just as important as the destination!

Recommended reading:

Wabi-Sabi and Realism: Strange Bedfellows

On that note, our art form entails a lot of long hours of hard work and that can be immensely daunting. So learn to embrace the process and revel in the doing, find peace in the methods and techniques. Even the tedium of sanding or ticking can be turned into a meditation rather than a chore. Also remember that creating art is a never-ending learning process and though it may not feel like it, you’re growing artistically right now. Every minute you're arting isn't just an opportunity to grow — you're automatically growing. Just study your art from years past to see your growth and improvement to see how that's happening, steady and sure, and find satisfaction in that. Really, things aren’t so dire when you can see that you are actually making some headway. You see, enlightenment and improvement don't just happen in big, flashy moments of epiphany, but also in lots of little imperceptible moments that pass right under your nose. So as you work, find satisfaction in the knowing that — yes — you are improving even though you may not see it today.

And lastly, when intimidation and fear seem to pummel you into the ground despite it all, always “find your way home” as Elizabeth Gilbert would put it. Really, if you love arting so much, dip into that innate love as a reservoir of compulsion. Like when you start to feel down about your creativity, pinpoint what motivates you with it in your guts and emphasize those aspects to the nth degree. Is it because you love your creations? Do you find the act of creativity calming? Do you do it for amusement and delight? Are you driven by an artistic compulsion? Are you interested in discovery and innovation? Does creativity fulfill you in a way no other outlet can? All of the above? Something more? Whatever it is, grab it by the tail and don’t let go! That fire of creativity within you needs stoking from time to time and often rediscovering our core drives can re-fuel our efforts in ways no other approach can. When we rekindle those core motivations then, there’s really no form or amount of artistic intimidation that can stand up to that essential power within us!

Conclusion

See, there are lots of strategies to bump us out of our doldrums or equip us to conquer our fears! We can conquer intimidation in a positive, empowering way. But the point to remember is this: It's all pro-active. It won’t just come to you. You have to put in the effort to knock yourself loose, to jostle yourself from being jammed up in your creativity. So put your shoulder into it! Really kick that proverbial door down! Being paralyzed by fear isn’t a fun place to be, especially for an artist otherwise eager to get to work. It can be a frightening, confusing, and frustrating place. But it’s not a place we need to be stuck in! We can find our way out with some of these targeted strategies like a map to a big, complicated maze. 

Because being intimidated in our creativity can be a complicated thing because being human is a complicated thing. Emotions, psychology, skills, pressures, physical limits, expectations, standards, public opinion, and all the rest congeal into a big weighty wad that can just sit on our shoulders and crush us into an inertial stupor. Honestly, something can seem so dreadful, we’re simply intimidated into inaction. But just remember to babystep, break everything down into chewable bites and chew, one bite at a time. When you’re wrestling with intimidation, the name of the game is creating a more friendly, creatively accessible process that makes things more doable, finish-able, and less-scary. Like if starting that custom just seems so unreachable, simply grab some sandpaper and sand some seams. Or if beginning that medallion feels beyond your abilities, just start warming up some clay and smooshing it around. Keep things super simple and achievable in tiny steps, and then you got this! Or, hey, maybe the perfection of that pristine OF finish or smooth untouched clay prevents you from "messing it up." Sometimes simply getting started can be the intimidating step! If that's the case...do something small to "mess it up," like take some sandpaper to that OF or squish that clay's surface. Deliberately make a mess of it. It can't be denied that arting is messy business and messier still is being human. So things are already a mess! Out of all that chaos and mayhem and exploration then can come something wonderful — that's the very nature of art in a nutshell.

Because is creative intimidation really such a bad thing? Think about it...look at all the good that can come out of it. Really, smoosh it all together and it can spur our progress and push us more, can't it? Like if we can morph daunting intimidations into pro-active challenges, we've just made ourselves one heckuva mechanism for progress! But perhaps best of all, intimidation asks us to always remember what best motivates us at our core; it reminds us of who we are as artists which is forever a great reflection to keep us centered and plowing forwards. The truth is then, when we always remember to “come home,” when we get really good at that, there’s absolutely no way intimidation can take up residence in that creative headspace and, as a result, we'll remain joyful and engaged despite anything scary that pops up. With that new view then, what better way to stay inspired than that? Something seemingly insurmountable can actually really just be an invitation, can't it? So get into your studio and morph intimidation into motivation! Transform it into something that fuels you rather than frightens you. It can be done, and all successful artists have found a way to do this with each new piece they undertake. The truth is, intimidation is simply as much a part as creativity as technique — it's normal and natural, even if you've been at this for decades. Undeniably, you'll always feel daunted, unsure, and self-doubting on some level with every new piece you start so learn to make it work for you. You owe it to yourself and mostly, you owe it to your art. There are pieces orbiting in your inspiration, desperate to come out, aren't there? They're begging you to find your moxie so they can manifest into this world, right? Well, here's the thing: What’s been brewing inside of you is some of your best work yet so take a big breath, buckle up, and let it all out! Yes, you can do it! And the irony is this: It's actually through the pathway of intimidation that we do this because every piece you ever create will be harrowing in some way if you're doing it right. Really, if you aren't periodically creating on the edge of your potential, where you literally feel like you're going to faceplant any moment, you just aren't stretching far enough. As such, it's through embracing our creative intimidations that we become those learner explorers again, the new view that fires up a fresh kind of fascination that compels tangible progress and revved up inspirations! Then how in the world can our self-doubt ever flourish in that blazing creative landscape? 

“Intimidation is a prerequisite to growth as an artist.”

— Cicely Tyson

A New View: Transforming Intimidation Into Inspiration