There was a day when I realised that cooking food and making objects had a hidden relationship.

And so you ask why and how.

It happened at work a few years ago, before the start of Stratum Designs. I was then about eight years down the road working as a technician in a University workshop. This really means that I was eight years down the road of conversing with students studying at degree level on creative, making-based courses. People who are beginning the journey to independent, or self-guided learning. Grappling with ideas whilst drawing on a limited skill set, possibly due to their point in life. Young. Good for them.

What's the easiest way to make this? What's the quickest way to do that? How can I make the bit fit in the thing? How can I join this to that? Someone said I should come here to get help. These are the preliminary, if slightly unhelpful questions I would very often field with my students, to a varying degree of success. My students would have been better placed than I to judge that success.

I began to realise that their questions seemed so open-ended, were vulnerable to vast interpretation, could be discussed for as long as two people could talk before one needed a toilet break, and at the end of it, the student and often me, be no closer to executing an actual solution, with actual atoms in actual space and actual time. Oh and of course, all this whilst trying to give a meaningful learning experience.

In the context of an educational workshop, where deadlines often loom, this appears to leave 2 distinct routes through which to move forward, at least at that moment. They have their positives and negatives.

1. Solve the problem for them. (Very little to no learning, but deals with the question quickly and generates an outcome, at least for the student)

2. Solve the problem with them. (A sliding scale of meaningful learning, that could take some time, perhaps more than is available)

Really, the question became around how to strike a balance between the two approaches. People with a vision bring ideas in many shapes and sizes, and from varying perspectives, with a variety of material understandings. So, what's the shared language that allows two people to speak about something unclear, something with wobbly edges, something that wants to be undefined because it's an IDEA? 

It was at this point that I started to think about kitchens, clothes, cooking and especially roast dinners. I’m confident in saying that most people will know what those things are, in as much as they will have had very real experiences of, for instance, cooking and eating. Choosing what to wear, taking a decision, reflecting on it, and adjusting. Next time, I’ll put less chilli in that bad boy curry. Or, maybe more. 

The point is, that when a person is engaged in an explorative process that is unfamiliar to them, decision-making can not only become hard but become an alien concept. It can be absent from the creative process of making, which can be great for relentless cogitation, chin scratching and navel-gazing, but deeply unhelpful to the development and execution of an idea. This is where the metaphor comes into play. 

For example, one of my favourites is the good old roast dinner. I’ll set the scene. Someone has an idea: I’ve got this model polar bear, a small thing that fits in the hand, and I want it to be forty-five times bigger, situated upside down on the ceiling, its belly should be furry, but its back reflective. And it needs to rotate. The first port of call, slow down, and solve these problems incrementally, with a sensible rationale, like eating your roast. SLOW DOWN. 

Here’s the roast. It's belly of Pork, possibly the best substance known to humankind, or any kind for that matter. The plate also contains greens, potatoes, cabbage, gravy, leeks, carrots, onions, kale and some Yorkshire puddings. What's the ambition? I WANT IT ALL IN MY FACE! So, If I were unfamiliar with the food and eating process at this point, I might pick the whole plate up, and simply tip it into my face. Hmmmmmm, lovely, but messy, problematic, some bits missed and fell to the floor, disappointing, oh bother! However, most adults will understand that eating is an incremental process, perhaps moving some things around on the plate to get to the bits they initially want. Decision-making in progress. 

So, to the present day, in our workshop, talking with our clients and partners about ideas, concepts and visions. Essentially, our style of consultancy. These discussions are structured and will help a client digest their ideas, at a helpful pace, one that allows reflection and adjustment, so that the correct decisions are taken, and with all in agreement. One can still be intuitive when thinking in this way but at a manageable pace. Every roast dinner you eat, will by its nature be a slightly different experience. And therefore you will eat its components in a slightly different order. Every idea deserves its own journey.

Anyone can have an idea. Toddlers have them all the time. Exploring and executing them is another matter. Brenda is 6 and has drawn a rocket. And then there’s Nasa………..That is at least in part how our species realised its vision and made it to the moon.