Losing Control with Creative Play

This weekend I spent time tempting people into creative play at the Women’s Expo in Phoenix, doing make-and-takes for Arizona Art Supply. The (clever) theme at the booth was using art supplies in unexpected ways, and attracted a lot of curious would-be artists, DIY, and yes, people who got their hair chalked with pan pastels.

I love watching people approach creative play–some people jump right in, some people want detailed instructions. In each case, I explained that the techniques (and resulting postcards) would require giving up control.

Several people left. “If I give up control, who knows what will happen,” one said, walking quickly away. Aren’t you interesting in knowing? Something scary? Embarrassing? Shedding clothes and skipping down the expo? Because nothing like that happened to the people who stayed.

I had two favorite moments: One mother brought her son, and explained he has autism. I felt great empathy for the child, who was about eight, because the exhibition hall was a cacophony of sound, lights, movement, and I hoped he was not overwhelmed. After he chose his colors, I asked him if he would like to spray the water, or if he would like me to do it. He took the bottle, pointed it and sprayed me in the face. It was completely accidental, I’ve done this myself, not locating the nozzle direction. He looked curious, and then at his mother, who looked horrified. He then became agitated and I assured him it was fine with me. I then squirted myself and said, “This cools me off.” He looked dubious.

He applied the paint with great precision, made the paper sandwich, but stalled at the step where he rubbed the paper. Thinking the texture of the paper might be unpleasant, I handed him a paint bottle to use as a brayer. He loved this, meticulously rubbing the paper.

Then came the big reveal–peeling the two pieces of paper apart. His face was surprised, and a tiny smile crept across his face. I told him he could take them home and he checked with his mom. Once they were dry he picked up one in each hand. Later, as I crossed the hall, I saw him again, walking with his head down and his art clutched to his chest. It made my day. Art heals. Or at least, makes you happy.

The second happy-maker was a beautiful woman who sat down and asked where the brushes were. “There aren’t any,” I explained, “This is done with ink and water and a voluntary surrender of control.” Seriously, she nodded followed the few directions, and created the most controlled uncontrolled piece I’d seen. Turquoise and black ink in wonderful proportions, delicate and powerful. Before I could ask to photograph it, she said, softly, “Is this art?” I answered, “Only you can decide, but it looks like it to me.” She smiled, took the card and vanished into the crowd.

There were some rocky moments, I didn’t please everyone, but these two people, who let art into their lives and were delighted, made my day.

—Quinn McDonald is a certified creativity coach who teaches what she knows.

25 responses to “Losing Control with Creative Play

  1. I would love to know more about your technique. I work with kids who need to feel that it’s ok to let go of control and think this would be a great activity for them. Would you mind sharing the how-to aspect of this? Do you think the shimmering acrylic inks would work? My kids love shiny. And kudos to you for filling two hearts to the brim.

    • The second technique–the Rohrschach one–will work great with a mix of shimmering acrylics and plain acrylics. The ink technique needs inks, although many kinds of ink work. If you have specific questions, send me an email (Under “Contact Me” at the top of the page.) Doing a video of the ink technique is on my list of things to do, but it’s a long list, so it won’t be soon.

  2. Art heals. Yes. It does.

    And as someone who spent the better part of his life bound by rules, it feels so GOOD to push the rules aside and let go and write and sing (and yes, even dance sometimes, too!) with abandon. And watch to see what happens.

    You know what ALWAYS happens–even if the end result isn’t “aesthetically pleasing”? It ends up being a valuable practice of taking risks, taking chances and letting go. And that’s ALWAYS a good thing. A valuable practice, indeed.

    Thanks for the reminder, Quinn!

  3. Are you strictly out west or do you travel around the country? I would love to know if you ever come to South Carolina.

  4. You did such a tremendous service by encouraging people to let go. I can’t tell you how important it has been to my artistic development (if I may apply those terms to myself, LOL) to learn how to let go, to live with imperfection, to enjoy the journey, to enjoy the process, to not plan the result, etc. etc. I’m learning the antithesis of the perfectionism I’ve suffered from all my life.

  5. What a good teacher and human being you are. Touching vignettes.

  6. I love how you encouraged the little boy! His experience with you that day will be something he will go back to again and again when he looks at his art pieces. Making art in this manner is like random dancing, you just have fun with it. And that’s the point of making art, or at least it is in my world.

  7. And that is why we teach and share what we love. :)

  8. Loved the story! Creating art one person at a time!! You rock!

  9. It wasn’t only the art that healed or opened a door — it was also the person who gave them the key and/or encouragement. Great stories!

  10. what great things we can create when we let that pesky old left brain GO!!

  11. Sometimes you only need to know that you’ve made a difference for 1 or 2 people, and it makes the whole process SO worthwile! =D

  12. Lovely! And lovely pieces too

Join the conversation

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s