Embracing Failure: Lessons from sourdough bread making and sculpture.
Failure. It's a word that often carries a negative connotation, but in the realms of learning how to make sourdough bread and crafting sculptures, it becomes a powerful teacher. These two seemingly unrelated pursuits have taught me valuable lessons about working with new and uncomfortable materials and processes. Through perseverance, I discovered that even in the face of impending failure, pushing through can lead to unexpected and delightful results—what I like to call "happy accidents."
The Rise and Fall of Sourdough Bread
Sourdough bread making is a culinary journey that demands patience and precision. At first, it felt like an insurmountable challenge. Mixing flour, water, and a wild starter culture seemed simple enough, but the intricate dance of fermentation and dough handling was a puzzle I had yet to decipher.
Countless loaves of bread met their demise in my kitchen. They were too dense, too flat, or tasted too sour. Each failure was disheartening, but it was also a stepping stone towards understanding the alchemy of sourdough. I realised that I was working with living organisms, and the unpredictable nature of these organisms meant that failure was an inherent part of the process.
Just when I thought I was on the verge of quitting, a loaf emerged from the oven that was not only edible but delightful. It was a serendipitous moment, a "happy accident." The bread had a crisp, caramelised crust, and the crumb was airy and chewy. The flavour was perfectly balanced—tangy and slightly sweet. It was a reminder that failure is a stepping stone to success, and sometimes, it leads to creations that surpass our expectations.
Sculpting with Uncertainty
Sculpture, on the other hand, is a world of three-dimensional art. Unlike drawing, where I felt more in control, sculpture has always pushed me out of my comfort zone. I work with materials like clay, resin, and metal—substances that have their own rules and quirks.
In the early days of sculpting, my work often resembled misshapen lumps rather than the elegant forms I had envisioned. The tools were unfamiliar, and my hands struggled to convey the ideas in my mind. I always said "my fingers feel like sausages" when handling a new material. It was frustrating, but reflecting on my recent experiments with the sourdough made me understand more about my attitude in the past to making sculpture in the future : embrace the failures as part of the learning process.
As I continued to sculpt, I experimented with different techniques and materials. I found myself pushing the boundaries of what I thought I could achieve. In this journey of exploration, I encountered numerous unexpected outcomes. A piece of clay dropped on the studio floor creating a beautiful texture, and a slip of the hand turned a mistake into a defining feature.
Embracing the Process
The parallel experiences of sourdough bread making and sculpture taught me that failure is not the end but a stepping stone on the path to mastery. They taught me the value of embracing the process and the importance of perseverance.
In both endeavours, I discover that comfort zones are limiting. Stepping into the unknown, working with new and uncomfortable materials and processes, is where growth happens. It's where you encounter challenges that make you question your abilities and test your determination.
Failure becomes a companion, not an enemy, when we view it through the lens of learning. It's a reminder that innovation often arises from moments of uncertainty. Happy accidents, those unexpected results, are the gems that emerge when we push through our doubts and fears.
So, the next time you face a challenge or feel like you're on the brink of failure, remember me and my sourdough loaf that surprised me with its perfection. Embrace the uncertainty, learn from your mistakes, and don't be afraid to discover the beauty that can emerge from the unexpected. In the end, it's the journey, with all its ups and downs, that leads to the most rewarding creations.
