Later yesterday I meet an artist and blogger on Twitter, Rosie_Rowe, who spoke specifically to her love of ‘messiness’. I have to say, it shows in her work—in the most pleasing and beautiful way. To add more ‘orderliness’ to her art would be to ruin it. She admittedly works in utter chaos, but I see what comes out of it, and all I can do is applaud.

I can be both messy and organized. I actually love to build organizational systems in my studio and office—it’s like solving a puzzle to me—but I do prefer to keep bits and pieces of what I am working on scattered about, as it would be in an active, busy studio, office, desk, or other creative workspace. The scattered remnants of a craft project on the kitchen table or the pile of resource books and color cards on a designer’s desk is a display of the creative process in motion, of the history of the creator’s progress. A mess means something is happening, possibilities are being transformed into realities, and  and, for me at least, such a sight is exciting and energizing.

Not everyone feels this way, I know. My significant other is partial to neatness and things being in their place more often than not. Although a musician and entertainer of a rather outlandish sort (see Reverend Guy Marvel), he just feels better when things are orderly, when there is some modicum of control in the house. This is just how some people are, just as others prefer to just keep going rather than worry about the debris that results from their creative process. The usefulness of messiness or orderliness is, when it comes down to it, best measured by an individual’s preference.

But like anything, it should all be in moderation. I mean, if you are too orderly while working, you probably aren’t letting yourself go, allowing your mind to slip into the zone where keeping things neat is usually last on the list and where over-thinking your work is usually quenched. But being overly messy often results in delays as you search for tools or files, or mishaps when buried paint jars tip over or client’s notes get tossed with the first sketches.

My solution is to take a few minutes at the end of my time in my studio or at my desk to put away the things no longer relevant to my present project but leaving, where they fall, those tools or references or materials I will need when I return, so I can fall right back into my work. You can try that if the chaos is taking over but, bottom line, don’t let anyone ever tell you that your work space is too messy—or too neat. There is beauty and inspiration in both.

I think it’s obvious when you are making something for which you have no passion. When you are creating your work straight from your original spirit, it shows and that is part of what makes the work so attractive to others. If some of you is not imbued in what you are creating, what is the point?

I used to make these garden Faerie doors—they were solar powered resin cast doors with one-of-a-kind embellishments whose windows would light up in your garden when the sun went down. People loved them! I sold more of those than anything else at the art shows. And at first they were fun but they were more of a gimmick than a passion. After a while I got rather tired of making them and took no pride in the compliments I would get. They were just things I felt I had to make because it guaranteed that every art show would be monetarily worthwhile.

Then suddenly they stopped selling or at least they wouldn’t go for quite as much as they used to. It seemed rather odd to me until the day I looked at the pictures of the first ones I had made and then at the ones I had done most recently. They weren’t the same. The newer ones were comparatively dull, just churned out with no real design to them. It was obvious that I just wasn’t doing them very well any more.

Now I could have simply bucked up and worked on the designs and improved where I had been lagging but the thing is, I really didn’t want to make the faerie doors anymore. My heart wasn’t in it and I think it was obvious to the buyers. So I stopped making them and reevaluated my whole line. I scraped any design that made me cringe or that I knew I wouldn’t wear or display in my own place, anything I didn’t feel excited about selling. And you know, I am not only a happier artist for doing that but my newer work gets far more attention and compliments and goes for higher prices than my older work. And all I had to do was make what I felt was good art. Not what the market might have led me to believe was wanted.

Even if the work you do is under contract for a client and they have specific ways they want you to do things, they hired you based on something in your personality or your portfolio that made them feel you could create the look or feel they want. So put yourself into your work, be true to who you are as an original creator. Not everyone will love what you do, but do what you love and you will draw those who taste parallel yours.

Our source for language and visuals is most commonly, and sadly, from advertising and popular entertainment. Unless you want your work to sound like stilted sit-coms, or your visuals to look like billboards and website sales pages, you have to consciously and continuously expose yourself to work that is in the vein of your own aspirations. As a creative, you probably already know this.

But that, at the end of the day, just keeps you from mimicking the junk you are constantly exposed to. How about your own voice? Where does it come from? How can you be sure you are creating with your own original style?

This, of course, assumes you want to be original. But why would you want to recreate someone else’s work? You need to express you. And that is not so very easy these days.

So how do you find and cultivate your own original voice and vision?

Because you will necessarily create based on what you are exposed to, you cannot excise every instance of work that looks remotely like someone else’s work. But what you can do is practice your craft at the one time of day when you have been exposed to nothing but yourself for hours on end—first thing in the morning.