"focusing on the process" and casual wabi-sabi
Recently, while scrolling through pictures that I took last year on my phone, this one caught my eye.
I photographed this at some kind of design exhibition. I don't remember the topic anymore, or how this exhibit tied into the exhibition as a whole. However, both back then and now, when looking at the picture again, I found this arrangement of objects to be attractive somehow ... even though the individual elements aren't. The iPhone is worn around the edges, without a protective case. The book is battered and broken (the spine has been fixed with tape). The drawings in the notebook are crude, drawn with a cheap ballpoint pen. The coffee mug looks like it belongs in a dingy 80s coffee shop.
Aside from the iPhone, the ensemble looks very retro. That is definitely part of its appeal to me. But that's not all there is to it. More so than the retro-nostalgia element, what appeals to me is the frankness with which these things are presented.
I don't know who these items belong to (or if they even belong to one specific person at all). However, they still evoke an image: The image of a person who is a bit messy, but tends to keep things simple. Someone who doesn't care too much if their iPhone gets scratches or their book becomes worn down. They probably know that their drawings aren't very good, but it's not really the quality they're concerned with, anyway. The drawings just vehicles for working out something else. And to get there, they'll use their tools extensively, without worrying about appearances. It's a kind of messy chic, a form of contemporary, casual wabi-sabi. It gets its appeal from the implication that the person using these tools is a maker who focuses on action and doesn't overthink too much. The "just do it" attitude.
To someone who always wants to keep their notes clean and puts covers on their books and notebooks, this is very appealing. It's an "opposites attract" kind of situation: Because I'm the type of person who wants every page of the notebook to "look good" and gets bummed out when they "ruin a page" with a bad drawing, I admire people who can just put something on the page and move on. I think I often end up holding myself back, limiting my options and potential, because I care about form and doing things properly so much. If I spent more time trying, failing, and learning while doing, I'd probably get to where I want to be faster.
So in a way, this photo serves as a reminder to myself to focus more on action and content. To treat my tools a bit more roughly - not in a "move fast and break things" kind of way, but just a bit more worry-free. They're tools, they're meant to be used, not pampered. Yes, my notebooks and pens might get scratches, I'll make mistakes, and create a lot of bad drawings. But if that gets me where I want to go, that it'll be worth it, and the traces left on the tools will let them develop their very own charm over time. It's not just old, kintsugi'd tea cups and antique wooden furniture that can embody beauty in imperfection. Beat-up pens or messy notebooks can, too.