Stake Your Claim

In the past year I’ve been trying to figure out how I want to make a living for myself. I’ve gone from being fully immerged in graphic design, jewelry design, blogging and catering to wanting to drop them and start all over.

I’m learning to listen to myself more; riding the thin line between “I could do this for a living” and “I should only do this for myself”.  What I’ve found is this: I need to take ownership for who I am and the work I do. In my attempt to find independence with self-employment I find that I’m still relying on everyone else around me to validate who I am and the work I choose to do.

In my mind, I can still see the big red letters “this is crap” on my freshman review, written of course, by a disgruntled professor. For some reason those three words are heard much louder than every other good and positive word that came my way in college. The critic is always much louder. Often the critic isn’t the professor, but ourselves. We are willing to give up, and resign ourselves to the words of the world. We let our peers dictate who we are and who we will become. We sit in our studios and stare at the blank screen or  sit in front of a pile of metal and tell ourselves before we even start: this is crap.

I have people in my life who will not acknowledge that I’m a designer. They call me an artist or dare I say a crafter. To them, I merely tinker with jewelry and peddle my wares.

There are others who only see me as a designer. A sell-out. Not a serious artist.

And then there are others who dismiss what I write, because I don’t proof, because I don’t rattle off the names of my favorite writers or the latest books I’m reading.

But, I still write, I still design, and I still come up with ideas even when I’m sleeping.

Those people are few, they are the minority in the sea positive and creative people I surround myself with on a daily basis. They are not just real people, but the thoughts that I have about myself. These words have never been spoken to me. Only from myself, to myself.

My point is this, those who I regard as good designers, artists or writers aren’t good because their work is especially amazing. They are good because they believe they are good. They stake their claim. This doesn’t mean they don’t make mistakes, or ever created bad work, it’s because they do it anyway. They are pushing themselves to be different and to learn. They are professional, but not falsely confident. They are humble, they collaborate and share ideas. This is who I want to be.

When I start a new business or project, I know it is often out of distrust for my current work. How can I master anything if I’m always starting something new? The truth is this: I am a designer, artist, creative person. I have failed many times. I’ve created disasters. I’ve made so many mistakes. But I can’t do anything else as my lifes work, because this is my life. I eat, breathe, and dream about design in all aspects. I love publications, layouts, logos, the way food is arranged on a plate, the way a piece of metal becomes a wearable sculpture. My life is in the aesthetics, in the hope of beauty. It is everywhere. It’s in an empty glass bottle or the veins in a leaf.

By default I was made to see the details. Without glasses I cannot see far away, or even a couple of inches past my nose. But without them I can see something much greater: all the details. I can see the pores in my hands, the hair follicles protruding from my skin, I can see the fine details that people often miss. And I think as a whole this is who I am, a person who works in the details.

This is a declaration to myself: I am a designer and I am an artist. You’re either on board or not. I’m still moving and this show is only going to get better. I take my work seriously and I believe in my abilities. I am regardless of the competitiveness and weary egos of my peers. I’m growing and constantly challenging myself. I say this as a reminder that I can and will get better if I’m willing to do the work. Sometimes I don’t challenge myself to create excellent work out of fear, fear of great work.

My husband always tells me that talent comes from hard work, no one is naturally talented. He says that you can play the same chords over and over on the guitar for years, but never become a good guitarist. You have to keep learning new techniques. This is a process that will never stop. You can’t mourn over all of the bad music you’ve played because you can’t become great without it.