I recently noticed I’ve passed the 100 posts threshold here in “An Artist’s Notes”.
And then I thought, “Why does that seem significant? Isn’t this just a number?”
It’s funny how motivating numbers can be when working on projects. Right now I’m trying to reach one thousand hexagons for a mixed-media quilt installation. Why 1000? Somehow, I feel like reaching that number makes it more substantial or significant. What if I hit 999? Will the piece suffer? Will it have less of an impact on the viewer? What if it needs more than one thousand to complete the shape or size that I want for the final piece?
Is 100 or 1000 just a number?
I’ve also participated in several 30-day art challenges and a few 100-day as well. Whether I’m using them to complete a project, build a new skill or habit into my practice, or tell a larger story - I find using specific, numbered, goals keeps me focused on the task at hand and enables me to express my intentions more thoughtfully, even if this nice round number is chosen seemingly arbitrarily.
A round number is meant to construe flexibility. It’s “gentle” in this way. At the same time, “round numbers are more memorable”. ~ George Wu | Why Are Round Numbers So Powerful
So - do I get a prize if I complete the goal? What happens if I go beyond as I did with my challenge to photograph one interesting shape or spot of color for 30 days in 2020 which turned into a 90-day project? What kept me going on Day 31? And why did I stop on day 91?
I find the allure of these arbitrary numeric boundaries interesting, and the acceptance of them, as such, helpful in understanding my actual goals.
And for them to work as motivational and/or habit-forming tools - I find a few parameters help.
Be Honest with Myself
This may be the hardest part for me. I am an eternal optimist - which is often helpful, and sometimes not. I will commit to something weekly (thinking it’s only once a week!) to find myself regretting the obligation because, you know, it’s EVERY WEEK! I have a hard time recognizing that I don’t function well within the confinements of routine. I crave variety and spontaneity - two of the driving forces that have kept me away from the traditional career path I once was on and clinging to an artist’s life instead. Can I commit to doing something for 5 minutes every morning? I now know how to build parameters around my expectations. I know success is not unilateral. If I celebrate the journey, I will find something meaningful in the process whether I fall short or surpass my arbitrary goal.Be Flexible
In this way, I accept that the number to which I aspire is only a target. My goal (building a body of work, honing a skill, trying something new, forming a new habit, etc.) is broader and holds more meaning than the number I’ve assigned. If I fall short of the number or decide to continue beyond it has no relevance to my goal. The number is merely a motivational tool. My success does not lie in a number, which I may decide to adjust as I progress.Build in Forgiveness
I often call this my “Duo Strategy”. I am currently on a 1409-day streak on the language learning app, Duolingo. Have I remembered to practice my French every day for 1409 days? Almost. Duolingo builds in “Streak Freezes” to help you stay motivated even when you miss a day here and there. Because, you know, life happens! So, if I miss a day, I am forgiven, and I can still feel the motivational pull of a growing habit ticking toward larger numbers regardless of whether I managed, say, to keep doing something for 30 days in a row or 30 out of 32. According to VeryWellMind.com: “Building new healthy habits takes time. A 30-day challenge can help to get the ball rolling, but it may not be enough to make lasting change. Research suggests it takes an average of 66 days for a new behavior to become ingrained.” Also, the article surmises, that missing one day does not hinder progress, however, the more difficult the behavioral change, the longer it takes for the habit to form. In this respect, I choose to accept I may miss a day (or goal), and plan for how I will move forward.Connect with a Story
Finally, I find that if I can attach a larger meaning to a goal I am more likely to stay the course - and stories are often what give the numbers their weight.
The legend of the cranes
I’m sure many of you already know the story of Sadako Sasaki and the legend of the cranes. For myself, it wasn’t until my children were in grade school that I learned about the poignancy of these folded pieces of paper.
Senbazuru, which literally means a thousand cranes, is the art of folding origami cranes and tying all of them in a string. According to this Japanese legend, the person who can accomplish this will have their wish granted.
In Japan, China, and Korea, the crane is believed to be a mythical creature that lives for 1,000 years. However, the Japanese are particularly fond of the crane, and often refer to it as the “bird of happiness.” The crane is thought to represent good fortune and longevity, and its wings are believed to provide protection…
The tradition of the Japanese orizuru (ori– “folded,” tsuru “crane”), or paper crane, began in feudal Japan (1185–1603 CE), when people gifted each other the paper figures as symbols of honor and loyalty. However, it wasn’t until the 16th century that the art of the origami crane was officially recorded. Hiden Senbazuru Orikata (“Secret to Folding One-thousand Cranes”), published in Japan in 1797, is the first known book on origami. It features the earliest known instructions on how to make origami cranes, along with countless examples of different kinds.
The Story of Sadako Sasaki and 1,000 Paper Cranes
Sadako Sasaki was two years old when she was exposed to radiation from the atomic bombing of Hiroshima during World War II. After developing leukemia, at age 12 she spent a significant amount of time in a hospital and began making one thousand origami cranes, inspired by the Senbazuru legend.
“During Sadako's stay in the hospital, her best friend, Chizuko, came to visit her. Chizuko brought some origami (folding paper) and told Sadako of a legend. She explained that the crane, a sacred bird in Japan, lives for a hundred years, and if a sick person folds 1,000 paper cranes, then that person would soon get well. After hearing the legend, Sadako decided to fold 1,000 cranes and pray that she would get well again.”
The Story of Sadako Sasaki and the Hiroshima Peace Cranes | TheElders.org
According to her brother, Masahiro Sasaki, Sadako died having folded approximately 1,400 paper cranes (contrary to previous tellings of her story which attribute 644 to her and the rest to her classmates). When her wish didn’t come true, she kept going.
“She let out both the pain of our parents and her own suffering with each crane. She hid her suffering and was very tolerant of the pain. She didn’t want anyone to worry. She didn’t complain to her friends or to us. Her spirit encouraged others around her to speak of her bravery,"
Masahiro Sasaki | NationalGeographic.org
Masahiro Sasaki eventually co-wrote (with Sue DiCicco, founder of the Peace Crane Project), The Complete Story of Sadako Sasaki, sharing her surpassment of the original One Thousand Cranes goal and her legacy of peace to the world.
“Best of” 100 Artist Notes
While my 100 entries posted to “An Artist’s Notes” in no way compare to the story of Sadako Sasaki’s 1000 paper cranes, I am still proud of this small achievement. In addition to encouraging myself to be honest, and flexible, to build forgiveness, and to find (or create) a story to connect my goals to, I also want to remember to celebrate small achievements along the way. It’s often too easy to dismiss our milestones.
So, with this 102nd entry, I would also like to include a few of my personal favorites from the past almost four years of writing here. I hope you enjoy the look back.
~ Jennifer
Note: Edited 5/19/24 to correct “101st” entry to “102nd”.