It’s worth pushing the boundaries from time to time. In the void of novelty, we test our strength, ability, and resolve. Here, we venture to succeed beyond our limits but aren’t always sure if we can.
That is until we know - this is going to work.
When I make, I often create things using tried and true methods. These projects involve doing things the "right way," whatever that may be. For example, when I do woodworking projects, I employ common methods in joinery. And I cut and shape wood in ways identical to countless other woodworkers. The reasons we do so are obvious - no need to reinvent the wheel. Standard methods exist because they work, as proven by countless others for decades or even centuries.
But as often for me, I am making things that don't have a precedent. I like to explore "mixed media making” and combine various materials in unexpected ways. For example, I use wood with plastics and metal interchangeably when others might only use wood. I introduce this novelty on purpose because I want to build things differently - to see if I can. And occasionally, on contracts, I'm asked to make things that no one else has made before. Either way, the unknown looms large in these instances. And it can be daunting as well as invigorating.
Of course, the first thing anyone should do when faced with an unknown is to research it. What might be new to us is unlikely unique; it's that we don't personally know about it yet. That's how anyone learns the "right way" to do things as described above - by learning what others do in a given instance. But despite my diligence before I begin something new, I don't always find answers. Either I didn't look in the right place, or occasionally - very rarely - I am genuinely venturing into the unknown. Here, the only thing to do is give it a shot.
Just this week, I had such an experience.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I work on a few conservation projects involving assisted reproduction of endangered animals. Researchers have asked me to make probes to facilitate their work, and these projects allow me to explore methods I've never used before. One such project involves embedding small parts and electronics inside a waterproof polymer shell. I'd never done anything like this, but it seemed possible, so I said I could do it and then set about to prove myself right.
It's taken me several months to tool up and gain the needed experience to pull it off. The methods are not new - primarily basic electronics work for the guts, which I already knew. And mold and cast work for the polymer shell, which I’ve recently learned. These are techniques used for countless projects by many others every day, and I've learned a lot simply by watching videos. But what is unique - the completely novel part of this build - is embedding the specific components I have inside a suitable polymer exterior.
I honestly didn't know if it would work, and I hadn't found any similar examples to suggest it would. But I hoped it would; I believed it would. (And I needed it too since this is a contract!) So I assembled as many knowns as I could, and then jumped in headfirst into the unknown.
I gave it a shot.
The result was not a complete success. The casting left a few air bubbles around the internal parts. And the probe didn't have the fit and finish that I expect of my projects. But still, what I learned was just enough to get that final reassurance - this thing is actually going to work.
How did I know? Well, basically, all of my fears were alleviated. The polymer adhered well to the internal parts - I had no idea if that was going to happen. If not, I might have had to scrub the whole design. And the probe shaft was rigid, and it felt durable. This thing was going to be used, so it had to be solid. Best of all, I could immediately see what needed to be done to improve it to finalize things.
The process enlightened me; I now knew how to make this build a reality.
Perhaps you've been there too. In school, for example, there's a feeling when you know a test is going well. I might ace this thing! Or when playing a game and you learn that victory is all but inevitable. And in creating something, be it a meal or an endangered animal reproductive probe - there comes that point when you know what you are making will turn out well. It's a feeling, an understanding - that you've got this.
And it's a great feeling.
I believe one of the most inspiring things about creating is this feeling. The knowledge that we achieved something we at first didn't know we could. It happens when we push the boundaries and try our hand at the unknown. And when we punch through that cloud of doubt and shed light on the dark, we are victorious.
Victory alone is gratifying. But that’s not all that’s achieved here. Confidence in one thing begets strength in all aspects of who we are. In this way, crossing the divide from the unknown into the known builds us up. We create who we are when we make our successes - great and small.
This is going to work.
As I said, when you know, you know.
Until next time.
JRC
I also like ‘happy accident’s’ not always repeatable though!