This morning I put on my classic black interview dress, organized my “student work” portfolio and hailed a cab uptown. People are such idiot cab stealers, I thought. Due to the 20 minute delay in getting a cab, I would now be 3 minutes late, work up extra nerves and have a refreshing layer of perspiration to greet my potential new employer. I would leave feeling good about my work, confident in my presentation and genuinely excited. Much like a first date, I would wait for their call, all the while beginning to doubt myself and my potential. This is me in New York. Freaked out and vulnerable.
When I was in school I pictured New York City nights filled with heady job security, champagne, my friends and me laughing in wedge heels. I would find inspiration from the street; I would wow creative directors with my ambition and determination. I would earn the whole package because I really wanted it. Scribbling “remember you love this” over again in my design journal seemed to validate me as a designer. Or rather, a Designer–with a capital D, with self-esteem and confidence, ready to change the world by way of filling up the white space. Often it takes telling myself that out loud in order for me to really believe it.
In juxtaposition to my New York City dream, my nights are now filled with economy sized bottles of wine, scouring the Internet for unsuspecting design firms and freelance projects that won’t pay enough. I think false expectations pretty much sums it up. From people, myself, the industry. Turns out a book and a dream get me pretty much just that. Sometimes I think it’s all a load and I should just move home to Florida and work for a mundane corporation that wants me, relish in biweekly paychecks and sandy beaches. But then I would be a wimp, and that’s not something I can really want on my resume. Instead I choose to love design as much as I did when it wasn’t paying the bills, and relish in the freedom and unique opportunity given to me by the power of freelance.
Somehow design seems a much more passionate field than selling encyclopedias door to door or making millions on Wall Street. You have to take responsibility for your work, even if it is creating a PowerPoint presentation with clipart and words like “team building.” For me, being in New York City is coming to terms with my reality. Knowing who I am and what I’ll stand for and not making excuses for it (with emphasis on not making excuses). I am now coming to believe that a heartfelt defined and designed soul is far greater an accomplishment than a surface print ad in a decorated design annual. And, honestly, I hope that doesn’t change with experience. I try to remember now, that my inexperienced advice can also be the best. It reminds me of what I wanted before things got complicated. It reminds me to be true to myself. That myself is good enough.
I want to always be able to recognize if something is pretty just because I like it. Or if a logo works just because it is plain. Can my design knowledge and opinion be based solely on creating something simple and meaningful, devoid of the politics and corporate climbing that now seem so necessary?
Is it so amateur of me to think of this as a career? Getting excited about Fashion Week, saving clippings from catalogues, doing a really awesome rendition of Freedom by George Michael. These are things I pride myself in. Is it possible to do what I love and actually be recognized for it by someone besides my mom? Or will my inexperience crust over with logic and client restrictions, leaving me working overtime because I have to, not because I want to?
Saul Bass said, “A career is built on a series of successes, not just one flashy hit.” “Successes” for me right now are making rent, having my work in CMYK magazine or finally landing that interview. And I’m learning to be okay with that. The glamourous life of the designer I still want to be–the kind that sketches and makes champagne toasts and writes and collects and travels on the weekends–I still think will come someday. And as I sit here typing to the sounds of perverted workermen digging a hole in the sidewalk outside my apartment, I think of where I was a year ago and how much has changed, how much I have learned and grown as a designer and as a person. And I truly know that counts for something.
Alison Matheny attended the University of Florida and Portfolio Center before moving her life to New York City. Originally from Florida, she enjoys long walks on the beach (for real), overeating and delicate sabotage.
Currently Alison is freelancing while living with a big dog in a small Manhattan apartment. In her freetime she enjoys painting, writing and dreaming of summer homes on the coast. You can look her up at www.helloalison.com and lifeofaharpy.blogspot.com.
I think that knowing who you are and what you'll stand for is the key to your already found success. Of course the "Freedom" rendition has helped as well.
On Aug.08.2006 at 01:49 PM