While attempting to create the infographic, my mind spun with numerous ideas regarding form. Layouts, colors, charts, shapes, and fonts buzzed around in my head, rather than ideas for actual content. It seemed every time I landed on an idea, the form possibilities would take over and push me in the direction of another one. I had ninety-nine ideas, but content wasn't one; I was thinking so greatly on what it would look like, I could not decide what it would be about. The two, of course, are inextricably linked. Yet this dual-developing, trying to draft a form and content that are cohesive, not redundant, but complimentary and filling each other’s shortcomings, was like trying to speak two different languages simultaneously. I am so very native in English, it seems my default for thinking. I rarely think or imagine in images as some do, and so it follows that conceptualizing with a foreign tongue would prove difficult.
Another aspect that frustrated me was exactly that—the multiplicity of form ideas, compared to fewer content ideas. I was imagining banners, dreaming of icons and Venn diagrams, hypothesizing adding Gifs and sound bytes, and wishing I knew how to write parallax code. My abilities once again favored writing, and my technological prowess stood no chance at meeting the breadth of my ideas. I spent a good portion of the brainstorming session wishing that digital rhetorics was taught earlier on, in high school or middle school, so that my brain had time to develop this two-tiered invention process, where I can think in form as simply as I think in content. I see great potential in fields where the physical appearance of thing speaks as loudly a message, or louder, as its explicit text. Form has always been a major player in the meaning-making sphere; we are just coming to notice it even more now.
As Friday drew near, I eventually settled on an earlier idea for the infographic that I knew I could create with less brain-ache, albeit my perfectionist drive to create the "best" would suffer. I read that smokers’ brains come to associate positive vibes with the color and look of a cigarette pack, and I had also read the timeline of bodily processes post-quitting, and thought they would make an interesting combination. Further, I feel that many stop-smoking campaigns focus on the negative aspects of continuing, rather than the positive aspects of quitting. Make someone stressed about their blood pressure, and their immediate stress-response will be to light up. But show the positive compound-effect of quitting, that every day without a cigarette adds more to their life, and smokers can respond with optimism and motivation. While putting the graphic together, I found myself considering aspects like font more than ever before. What mood does this convey? Does it feel proud, professional, comforting, ominous? What does the angle of a line change? Also, it is safe to say I spent a large portion of the invention process being 1.) disappointed that Google did not have the graphics I sought, and 2.) using Ctrl + arrow keys to shift everything around in micro-movements, until it all fit together. Like the finesse of final editing, you strive for balance and readability, and while the process may seem agonizing at times, it is crucial for reader experience.
Regarding number one, I was stoked on creating an infographic showing the steps of basic fly fishing casts, but could find little art on the subject to aid my graphic. Of course, were I a design-ninja I could have simply sketched something, but of course, I am a writer. In one way, the rhetorical situation was one that asked writers to become graphic designers, and thus I was bound by Google's search results (cue discussion on Filter Bubbles.) The rhetorical situation also heavily involved technology, and thus when my computer froze up and refused to run Power Point at normal speed, I was constrained. Thankfully, the library has speedy computers, but they also kick you out at 8:00 p.m. on Friday nights, did you know that? I didn't.
In the future, I will start my intense thinking/mental drafting process much earlier. And, I will choose something that passionately interests me, something that I geek out about. Creativity takes excitement, at least that’s my opinion. This project honed my practice of stress-working, but also my belief that the digital realm of writing is rich with possibility for meaning-making.
If I had more time, I would change subjects, probably following through on the casting diagram, or perhaps something entirely different. With these projects, I can burrow down deep and pull out my perfectionist and creative side, and sometimes make magic. But, my inspiration was absent, and even though I called and beckoned and whined and demanded, it did not show its lovely face. I have been considering how we beckon imagination...or is it un-beckonable?
Of course, the struggle is always good. It drove me nearly crazy to feel I had the abilities but lacked the inspiration, but also pushed me to consider how it is we come by those ideas. Perhaps they often arise unpredictable, and when they strike, we better be ready. But less unpredictable, I think we need to train our minds to think in both content and form-- to consider how an idea looks alongside what it means; to consider ideas from a visual perspective. We need better, more multiple ways of seeing, so that when we create, the layered-content/form process will come naturally, and with less struggle.
I know even more now how digital designers face incredibly complex work, how the form will speak for itself if the writer does not intend it to speak something else, and that to better my sketching skills is to better my communication and meaning-making skills, who would have thought. (-:
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