| CUTTING CORNERS |
Things that make me tick + tick me off. | Series
Cutting corners on the road
really ticks me off.
Literally.
You know when someone swings around a corner like they’re the only person in the world with somewhere to be?
Suddenly the driver coming the other way has to brake, swerve, panic, breathe into a paper bag, or silently question every life choice that led them to that exact intersection.
It’s unsafe. It’s selfish. And honestly, it’s just lazy.
But of course, because my brain likes to turn everything into a life lesson with a side of sarcasm, and it got me thinking.
Sometimes cutting corners doesn’t work well for anyone.
On the road, definitely not.
In life, usually not.
In creativity?
Well… sometimes that’s where
things get interesting.
The tortoise probably had a point when he had that little chat with the hare.
Slow down. Don’t rush. Don’t assume speed means success.
And yet.
I’m neurospicy, so naturally I’ve spent many years convincing myself that I “work better under pressure.”
Which sounds much more glamorous than saying:
I procrastinate.
I ruminate.
I leave things until the last possible minute.
I have seventeen ideas,
three unfinished projects,
and one cup of tea I forgot I made.
The truth is, I don’t always work better under pressure. I’ve just become very good at surviving the pressure I create for myself.
I’m working on it. Maybe.
Possibly. No promises.
But here’s the thing. In my art practice, the bits that go wrong are often the bits that send the work somewhere better.
A wonky mark. A splodge of paint. A ripped edge. A crooked stitch. A thrifted T-shirt that someone else might have walked past, dismissed, or thrown into the “too hard” pile.
That’s where my F*cked It | Fixed It theory comes in.
Sometimes the mistake is the beginning of the good bit.
Sometimes the thing that didn’t go to plan becomes the whole point.
And honestly, that’s one of the reasons I love working with thrifted pieces. I get really ticked off by how quickly people discard things. Clothes, objects, materials, ideas. If something is a bit worn, a bit odd, a bit imperfect, people are so quick to decide it’s finished.
But I don’t see finished.
I see potential.
I see a second chance.
I see something that can be messed with, painted on, stitched into, revived, roughed up, reimagined, and given a new story.
That’s exactly how the Cross Hare T-shirt came to life.
A thrifted T-shirt. A bit of attitude. A hare with something to say. A little reminder that rushing doesn’t always get you there faster, and mistakes don’t always mean you’ve ruined the thing.
Sometimes they mean you’ve just found the way in.
So yes, cutting corners is absolutely not OK on the road.
But in the studio?
A strange shortcut, a happy accident, a wrong turn, a “bugger it, let’s see what happens next” moment?
That might just be where the magic begins.