Don't k'nex the new year

My son has coined an expression which we have found very useful: k'nexing.

It refers to a time when a new toy (a k'nex roller coaster set) was rendered irrecoverably disappointing by youtube videos. Excited by the possibilities, he explored youtube for k'nex builds. There were some amazing things. We both ended up watching quite a lot of footage of people's amazing ingenuity. After which our own set looked pointlessly feeble.

He and I are veterans of the conversation about why we haven't got as many X as person Y. He got that the major k'nex constructions we marvelled at were built after years of practice and thousands of pounds spent on bits. But it was more than the ache of envy, which never interfered with his love for his wooden train set when other people's sets were bigger. It was that we had both been distracted from the k'nex itself by the dramatic scale of the constructions. Our little set simply couldn't satisfy our wild imaginings, although it would forever remind us of them.

Inspirations have energy, which you use to start the process of making them real. But this energy drains away over time and it is finite. There are three ways around this - only doing very quick projects; dividing big projects into a series of small endpoints and fresh beginnings; or else be more in love with the medium than the project. This last way seems the best to me, but it can't be pulled out of the hat to meet a goal.

For example, I make ceramic sculptures. I don't have a lot of time for it, and it's not something that's easy to leave half done and come back to weeks later, so in between I browse pinterest for lovely ceramics and daydream about ambitious projects. But this panoply of inspiration doesn't stop me enjoying the single small project I eventually engage in. Because I love clay, for it's own sake.

I also make 2D art in various media. I enjoy this too and so I also pin a lot of cool 2D art. But it's dangerous: I'm in love with the art, with the finished products, not the medium. I like colour, I like texture, I like compositional drama. But it's not so much about the paint, or the software, or the paper, it's about the finished effect. And that makes pinterest dangerous for my 2D work.

It's good, sometimes, to look up and see the mountain peaks of possible, but we are not dream creatures and we cannot fall upwards through pure desire. If you can't retain pleasure in the step by step, in the rocks and plants that are here underfoot, or the rise in the land a hundred yards ahead it's a miserable journey, and one you probably won't finish.

My new year's resolution is avoid over-large resolutions. So far, I'm doing okay.