Origami Hakken
My Process (such as it is) in Trying to Create New Models
 

Unquestionably, the creation of a new origami model—or a significantly distinct iteration of someone else's work—can find its start in several approaches. Among them…

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• Studying an image, sketching out your interpretation of it (say, a rhinoceros*), and breaking it down into its component parts…often in the form of polygons which help provide a nice, transitional middle ground between a successful result and your nascent first steps.

 

• Developing your model using an existing diagram for your choice of a subject—we could call these foundational steps—and then for the sake of exploration and learning—veering off in different directions to see where your folding takes you. It’s not an elegant or predictable process, but it might result in something that is more than just the slightest riff off the original (which is important). Let's hear it for the unexpected, serendipitous result.

 

• Utilizing advanced geometric or algorithmic approaches—which out of consideration for the viewer, and having barely squeaking by in my math classes I won't get into here. But continuous learning and familiarizing yourself with new tools (and I use this word broadly) can be  its own  reward.  Example: Out of curiosity I'm trying to learn more about "circle packing." Whether this benefits me down the road doesn't seem terribly important. Exposing myself to new concepts and approaches does. (By the way, Robert Lang this topic in his tour de force Origami Design Secrets: Mathematical Methods for an Ancient Art. Don't have a copy? Your local library might, have a copy, or be able to provide you one for a short time via inter-library loan.)

 

• Using (with greater mastery than I currently possess) a computer and software applications of varying complexity to “sketch out,” brainstorm, plot, or in some other way pull together the necessary folds, shapes, and ordered steps to make the most of what I like to call the paper "real estate." I saw a TED talk in which I the master origamist, Robert Lang, deftly utilized what might have been some kind of proprietary application to make this process more efficient. (If I misinterpreted this, please let me know.)

 

• Pouring over other folders' diagrams to see how their: 1) choice of a base; 2) strategic use of initial creasing; 3) unexpected way of utilizing a section of paper; 4) teasing out something unexpected from what seem unremarkable; or 5) careful consideration of those initial steps permitted subsequent ones something to build on...to flesh out the desired result.

 

• And the instructive answer to the ancient joke about one man on the street asking another how to get to Carnegie Hall and being told “Practice, practice, practice.”

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After several decades of folding, I finally dared myself to close my books, shut off my computer, and start seeing where a combination of "experimentation," my existing paper folding skill-set, and nominal patience would take me. I seem to gravitate towards a hybrid "Pureland" approach for rendering models. (To the degree I understand this description as I have seen it used.) And then there's the matter of good fortune: Seeing something with potential taking shape…as if a long sleeping model hidden away in the paper has roused itself from 2-dimensional dormancy.

 

When this happens  (and I apologize in advance for the mixed metaphor), I follow breadcrumbs the folds, creases, and hinted at  symmetry seems to reveals. And, voilà,  simple as that, I end up with a folded fiasco. Sometimes. (Read: More than sometimes.)  At the risk of anthropomorphizing, the washi has clearly had enough of me for one evening. I've end up with something over-folded and under-recognizable. But, gradually, I am starting to develop a feel (for lack of a better term) for those occasions when the a constantly varied mix of  skill, intuition, and the Carnegie Hall method mentioned above pans out in a deeply satisfying way.

 

Zen, this is not. Nor does it approach anything elegant in methodology. It's just applying (and broadening) existing skills, folding for the love of the tangible magic origami reveals, and engaging in what we all used to do (and the fortunate among still do): play. The French have a word that might describe my approach: bricolage.  (Though there is so much nuance and subtly in the French language I could be wrong.)

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So...this is a verbose way of saying that my inelegant, trial-and-error approach, and the resulting prototypes, aren't producing anything outstanding, yet. But it's a fun, rewarding, challenging...and I'm even watching less television as a result.

 

Which seems like reason enough to apply oneself to almost anything, doesn't it?

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*  I strongly encourage fellow folders to avoid studying real rhinoceroses too closely. Try folding their origami equivalent at 1:1 scale instead.

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