The other day my son was looking at bonus materials included with a video game he was playing. This multimedia archive featured short videos and stills that showed production art, motion-capture footage and technical demos. Drawn to the alternate character designs in particular, he noted that “sometimes earlier versions are cooler than the final ones.” This sparked a discussion about the artistic process — that long journey through inspiration, problem-solving, experimentation with materials, and trial-and-error that in no way guarantees success.

University of Hawaii professor emeritus Duane Preble invited artists Kauka DeSilva, Jodi Endicott, Philippe L. Gross, Vitaliy Juterbog, Linda Kane, Kazu Kauinana, Rick Mills, Fred Roster, David B. Smith, Laura Smith and Z.G. Tong to reflect on the role of process in their work. The results fill Kapiolani Community College’s Koa Gallery with a rich spectrum of behind-the-scenes glimpses that include sketches, maquettes, pre-visualizations, inspirational objects and photo documentation.

There was no framework to explore their respective approaches, so the collection lacks visual and conceptual cohesion. Some artists do not collect the ephemera or byproducts of their work, while others meticulously document every stage of development.

Preble did not impose restrictions — he was interested in each artist’s take, documented as they saw fit.

Kauinana’s “Ka Mooilili,” a State Foundation on Culture and the Arts commission for Kuhio Elementary School, features a grid of photos above a scale model. Kuhio is located on the ridge of rubble that is said to be the remains of a dragon slain by Hiiaka, and Kauinana’s concrete rendition of the beast swims through the earth itself. The images reveal the amazing cross section of labor, from heavy equipment operators to masons, that came together to realize Kauinana’s piece.

Getting a commission from the state foundation is a rigorous process that master glassworker Mills documents down to the minutiae in a thick binder that shows in-process photographs, project management reports, meeting notes, invoices and even canceled checks. He presents his project, notable for the inclusion of gorgeous glass samples, at the Manoa public library. Significantly, these test blocks look nothing like the final five monolithic shards that simultaneously evoke the valley’s ridges and the surface of the sea.After all, deviation and variation are part of the process, too.

Roster created a miniature museum to feature his work: six shelves featuring small-scale studies for larger pieces, complete with photocopies of initial designs from his sketchbooks. Those familiar with his work will find the grid of pots that are his Hawaii State Art Museum fountain, as well as his Scottish terrier bench. In Roster’s case it is clear that just as much love and attention goes into the models as the final work.

All of the artists provide supplementary written materials. There are formal summaries, didactic pieces, artist’s statements and borderline poems. Because the show is about getting from point A to B (rather than what B means), it’s important that viewers take the time to read the text.

Of particular note: Tong’s reflections on a medium (Chinese brush painting) for which process is driven by spontaneity, in-the-moment honesty and the specter of failure; and ceramicist DeSilva’s powerful and unsettling connection between studio work and drowning. DeSilva writes about a profound dedication to understanding materials, which — turning to Juterbog’s annotations — most people wouldn’t think of as part of a digital-production process. But Juterbog’s notes for his screenshots showing the evolution of a digital 3-D model demonstrate that though immaterial, virtual arts still require mastery.

Sometimes this expertise is located in the process itself, as illustrated by Kane’s description of literally scraping away layers of her work to get at the memories they are built from (inspired by a wide range of natural locales but ultimately focused on Hawaii). Then there is Gross’ discussion of the patience, emotional tuning and mindfulness required to “get” the right photograph.

Today most of the culture we consume is delivered in forms that approximate completeness. From the weather to homelessness to politics, we “skip to the end” (good or bad) before processes actually run their courses. Few are concerned with the details of production and problem-solving. This show is an oasis of sorts that encourages us to slow down and recognize that everything has a history worth studying.