Extending your vocabulary
I posted the following in May 2013, before starting to engage with my PhD thesis full time, at the now discontinued on-painting.tumblr.com. All new content obviously goes to beyondmimesis.tumblr.com for quite a while already. The post has been moved here for archival purposes.
You know what you can name. Understanding the reference systems you move in holds one of the tougher learning curves you need to continuously handle when starting to learn any craft. Sometimes that's easy - in painting for example, when interested in depicting objects, faces or basic gradients, the defining words of their basic topoi ("still life", "portrait", "abstraction" might be good guesses) are readily available to most of us.
We know these quantifications almost archetypically, having heard some of them maybe even before attending kindergarten. Each of the three mentioned example areas have tremendous histories to dig into, and are thus more like vectors for further research (to find the proper sub-topoi you care about)Â than clear cut mathematical classifications that would rule some things in, while keeping others out. But already, these vectors can be used for getting more information on the topics they point (or appear to point) towards.
Although we have this kind of predetermined knowledge about what certain topics are supposedly all about (meaning we also know what they are not about - a classic portrait in general is not about depicting a snake, for example), we will find that any topic's scope and depth becomes seemingly bottomless once we start focusing it. Additionally, this kind of knowledge sometimes turns out to be harmfully simplistic: When, for example, was a portrait ever the pure, pristine, virginal depiction of a face.
Nevertheless: Only if we know a thing's name, title or context, only if we know something verbal about the topic we want more information on, are we able to research into it in any decent way - by using a search engine, thesaurus, dictionary, your university library's referencing system, or a talk over coffee with a friend or mentor.
Limitation by quantization. An important aspect of defining anything is the potential downside of its delimiting nature: Defining ("Naming") something limits it - that's the whole idea of doing it, oviously: to delimit something's scope and/or depth - something's universality.
So, although it's the whole reason why one would probably ever define something, doing so unaware on certain meta-levels can result in problems - especially if (a) your quantification is off (and you thus look for the wrong thing, not knowing that yet), or if it (b) becomes off: if the research subject changes away from a previously fitting quantification - which, if not noticed, obviously won't automatically result in you looking for a new, "updated" definition.
Romantically speaking: Quantifications tame the beast, but beasts do not tend to stay tame. You need to stay aware of their wild nature, so you don't miss your pretty defining cage becoming rusty: You need to be aware of the inherently volatile nature of any quantifications you use - the implicit wrong sense of security they might offer you.
Once your point of view changes, you need to understand its shift properly: What changed, and whether previous knowledge is in any way still usable, or has to be thrown away altogether. "Kill your babies,"Â as a programmer once said about code he wrote that was good in itself, but became obsolete by the knowledge he gained by writing it.
Extending your vocabulary. What if your work doesn't focus on something that fits into well-established systems? What if it fits into categories/systems you don't know yet?
What if your work incorporates fragments of differing contexts, some of which you know, others you aren't sure about, but where (and that's where the fun starts) the permutations of dynamics between these fields (both known/named, and unknown/unnamed) are frighteningly (or excitingly) endless?
 The humanistic approach when encountering The Foreign: To investigate. We try to understand it, make meanings; usually by talking to others, or reading - by focusing our energies on the unknown topic.
So the first, and probably most obvious thing is to talk to peers. Two probably rather obvious ways to put yourself in environments of latent verbal exchange within your creative everyday:
Consider joining a group studio: An assistent at an art academy once told me she never met anyone that got succesful* who didn't at one previous point in time move their studio from their flat to the academy. You will have less "working time" after this (especially if you exclusively consider "swinging the brush" as your work), and less hours of actual work: Consider the commute, which usually takes time, consider coffee/social breaks etc. But, needless to say, you gain something far more important: contacts, opinions, social skills. Your work (and thus: you!) will be questioned at uncomfortable times and in uncomfortable ways, leading to growth. Over the years, you will know your very personal needs regarding a working space - but until then: simply try one situation after the other.
Apart from getting feedback on your work, get yourself in talks about art, and about your work. You don't need to consider it critique - but get yourself in atmospheres where your artistic troubles are heard, and can be discussed.
 Apart from that: Start a reading routine. Through this, the old wisdom will come alive once more: The more you know, the better you understand how little you know.
Read art theory - this will help you get to know both main and side concepts that art is produced on. Doing so will help to establish both basic and extended vocabulary.
Read monographs about those artists influental to you -Â This will help you understand the art world's definitions and thoughts about your paragon's work. Good texts will always help demystify!
Read texts written by artists influental to you. Not all artists write/wrote about their work, but if they did, they might offer more intimate, personal insights into their minds than anything else.
Read/watch interviews of the artists influental to you. Witnessing an artist will offer the most direct glimpses into their being (except meeting them in person); to get you started, consider Borremans or the famous one with Francis Bacon, by David Sylvester. But do not disregard written interviews either - experiencing words at your own pace sometimes results in deeper bonding than watching a video, with its own rhythm and timing etc.
Read magazines. Consider them an entrance to the art world's tendencies, much like the contemporary galleries your city might offer. They usually are the best place for quickly glancing into what's going on internationally, for spotting trends (and their potential pitfalls) and getting to know your contemporaries. But don't get wasted on magazines: They usually don't overcome their superficiality.
 Using your vocabulary. Take time to write about your work. Especially in those phases where doubt and self-criticism take the better of you, establish a daily routine of writing: What is your work right now. What problems do you see with it. Where did other artists encounter similar problems, and where did they differ, and how could they transcend the problem? For this verbal route, caring about words will be beneficial.
Use basic, non-art vocabulary to describe your work. As an example, imagine you never heard of the art historic topos of portraiture. You could still find words like face, head, background etc., and use them to continue finding better ones as your journey progresses.Â
Use technical attributes to describe your work. When thinking about lines, think of their attributes: line strength, line color, line continuation. It doesn't matter so much whether these words are commonly used, as long as they clearly denote your focus - optimally not only to you, but to anyone who wants to understand them. Line beginning, line ending: Who wouldn't understand that?Â
Use physics vocabulary to describe your work. When having an array of lines, consider words like frequency, line, moiré, oscillation, etc. Look them up in a dictionary to understand their definitions, and whether they help you understand what you do. In addition, think in abstract terms about the formal aspects of your work, potentially disregarding the pathos that higher-level forms (face, nudity, gestures etc) might implicitly bring into your descriptions.
Above all: Stay focused and continue breathing - and in all formal thinking, leave enough room for your emotions, the driving force in all things human.














