Understanding Artistic Process

Aspiring artists look at finished artwork and ask the wrong question: what pencil do you use? What brush pack? The focus lands on tools and finished results while the actual journey from idea to completion remains invisible. This matters because hiding process is fundamental to how finished work achieves its impact.

Art operates like a magic trick. There is the effect the audience experiences, and there is how the trick is actually done. Critically, audiences prefer not to know the mechanism. Understanding this paradox unlocks why process deserves far more attention than artists typically give it, and why embracing the messy reality of creation leads to both better work and more enjoyment.

The Three Phases of Creation

Process breaks into three distinct phases that operate very differently. The ideation phase transforms vague thoughts and feelings into concrete concepts. This phase is uniquely personal and happens entirely in the substrate of the mind, making it harder to study but equally important to develop. The creation phase is the actual making, where ideas become physical or digital forms. Studios are functional spaces where messy reality unfolds, full of corrections, failed attempts, and mechanical work that bears little resemblance to the polished result. The presentation phase handles how finished work meets its audience, including framing, lighting, marketing, and the stories told about the work. A painting in a studio is just paper with marks. That same painting lit correctly, framed beautifully, presented at a gallery opening with sophisticated people sipping wine transforms into something that commands attention and respect. Each phase has its own process and craft.

Why Society Hides Process

The educational system teaches results, not production. Students learn what scientists discovered, not how the discovery process actually works. Literature classes teach criticism, not creation. This pattern extends throughout society because most people genuinely prefer not knowing how things are made. Knowing how the sausage is made diminishes the magic. A handcrafted chair gains value from the story of the master craftsperson, but visiting the workshop on any given day reveals sawdust, glue, and mechanical labor. The romance disappears. This extends to art. Viewers want to see the finished comic book with its bombastic energy, not the stained ink, sleepless nights, and repetitive corrections. They want the tortured artist story that adds mystique, not the mundane reality of methodical production. Artists entering the field face this hidden knowledge problem directly. The information about how work is actually made is not readily available because revealing it works against the finished product.

The Joy Lives in Process

The critical insight is that process is what artists actually spend their time doing. Not making art in some abstract sense, but going through specific steps from A to B to C. Once this becomes clear, the relationship to process shifts entirely. The steps that seem like extra work to beginners reveal themselves as the source of creativity and enjoyment. Sketching loosely several times before committing allows fluid, relaxed drawing because multiple chances to correct exist along the way. The iterative nature of process is forgiving. Ideas can be tried and abandoned without real loss. Failed experiments lead to discoveries. The evolutionary quality of creation, where modifications happen continuously, aligns with something fundamental about how humans enjoy making things. The more developed the process, the more relaxed the artist can be, the more creative possibilities open up, and the more genuine fun emerges from the work itself.