Julie Israel

There are obscure things you learn in school that you’ll never use in the real life – and then there are the obscure things you learn in school that you never stop using.

I learned what I’m about to share in an entry-level art class, and I use it today for anything: artwork. Writing. Putting together outfits and adjusting recipes or reflecting on content, and how I might do it better next time. Give up?

I’m talking, of course, about employing the tool of distance.

Oddly enough, I forget the piece now, but I do remember the intimate, sunlit studio on the second floor of the creaky theater building where I, and perhaps the rest of my Drawing I class, were first taught to step away from our work.

We drew from live models there, so let’s suppose our subject was one of those. The class worked in sketchpads propped on easels around the room; our tools were 8B pencils. This meant that we rendered our subjects not in color, but entirely in values – grayscale lights and darks. Our instructor walked the room in silence as our figures took shape, hands behind his back in contemplation. Minutes passed.

Then, without warning, our instructor stopped us, and told everyone to put down their pencils and step back from our work.

The view changed: Now, instead of concentrating on a nostril, an arm, or the fine-fingertipped fall of a hand, we were all looking at the whole picture – and I’m willing to bet we were all spotting flaws. Proportions were clearer now, and because we worked in pencil — black and white — the farther we stood from our sketches, the more we could see they relied on contrast…and where it lacked. In short, if your darks weren’t dark enough, or there wasn’t a marked difference between your brightest brights and blackest shadows, your study would fall flat and dull, lost in the midtones.

As we got back to it and I worked up my shadows, I remember discovering with awe just how dark an 8B pencil could go – and what a difference it made. Imagine needing only to back five or ten paces or cross the room to spot check your own work! What an asset.

And it doesn’t just apply to art. In writing, what do we do when we finish a manuscript? Put it down and don’t touch it for a while, then come back with fresh eyes. (In this case, distance = time.) If I’m working on a pattern or new business cards with elements to scale to size, or an ambitious amount of colors to balance, what will I surely do? Yep: Zoom out. And when a friend comes to you for advice or a second opinion, what are they seeking? Perspective. Hell, I used this principle in writing this post (facts: It originally started on the fourth paragraph, and I’d glossed over the whole epiphany. But as soon as I worked in multiple sessions, I found the missed opportunities).

Distance brings new perspective, perspective brings objectivity, and objectivity brings insight – which is essential to improvement. In life, but especially in creative work, it’s far too easy to fixate on details and lose sight of the greater issues – which is why using space, time, other activities, etc. to periodically step back from our work and behold it in new light is one of the best (free!) tools on any maker’s pegboard. It allows us to spot-check our progress, but better still, short a second opinion, it also helps us to evaluate and improve our work ourselves.

Is there a way you use distance to improve something in your life?