Advice to (design) students

Asked what my advice would be to design students today, or any student for that matter, the following two points are my reply:

1. Find a career
2. Disregard specific advice

A job is a job. Work is work. But a career is something that can allow you to truly leave your stamp on this world. 

I’ve never been big on peddling specific advice like “just start freelancing now,” “move to New York City,” or “learn to code ASAP.” Specific advice is, for lack of a better word, too specific.

Everyone is different. Everyone comes from some place. Specific advice leaves out the person. If someone is giving you specific advice, please, disregard. 

To the youth out there today trying to make it happen, these two points are what I say to you. Now get after it.

On Sports

Well I certainly have watched a lot of sports this year. Way more than usual. A regular “sports guy” here.

In my adulthood to this point, I’ve never been big on sports, going years without watching any games, matches, or rivalries. Of anything. I was schooled at the University of Nebraska where Husker football rules. While I was a student, I never went to a single game. It was something I knew wasn’t my thing. But I did like knowing it was happening and was the source of happiness for other people. It was their thing, and that was great. 

But this year, I’ve been into NCAA March Madness, the NBA Finals, the College World Series, and now the World Cup. Tournaments, am I right? So much on the line, so much pressure, so much culmination. The best of the best, competing on the highest of stages. And specifically with the World Cup, it’s really something to behold. 

Why so much sports? 

Because it’s easy. I have no team. No dog in the fight. I’m simply there to enjoy the spectacle. No lead up, no post game. Just the thing I’m watching at that precise moment. And then it’s over. I sit there, either solo or with others, and watch a game unfold. Often in very compelling ways. Hooting and hollering at times, appreciating the skill on display. It’s proven to be a nice distraction from politics, work, responsibilities, etc. 

When the game (or match) is over, everything is left on the field. Wrapped up in a neat little bow in the form of a final score. Done and done, on to the next. Every. Single. Time.

I like that.

So does the New York Times.

The Four Agreements

• Be impeccable with your word
• Don’t take anything personally 
• Don’t make assumptions 
• Always do your best

I read the book in college. It was very powerful at the time. Then I sort of just forgot about it. Came across it again recently in the Atlantic. Today these agreements seem more important than ever.

This career is made up of ...

... so many ideas that failed to materialize, designs that were sub-par, writing that didn’t make sense, campaigns that were not successful, suggestions that were stupid, concepts that were thrown away, projects that fell flat, final files that looked sloppy, graphics that weren’t shared by any one, posts that weren’t liked by any one, solutions that were wrong, epiphanies that didn’t resonate, and plenty of times where everything just felt off and wrong and stupid. 

And yet, we keep going anyway. 

Ask any committed practitioner in any creative profession and they will tell the same thing.

So there you go, I’m being redundant again. 

Carry on.

Should designers also code?

My answer: No.
Different question: Should designers also write?
My answer: Most definitely.

Design and writing are more intimately interconnected than design and code. (Do architects also build the house?) If you want to be able to say something with what you’re designing, you have to know what you’re saying before you even think about visuals, typography, color, or layout. A lot of times the process fuses all these things together precisely. If you can’t write, how is that fusion ever going to be precise enough? 

Regardless, in the end, a designer must be able to think* goddamnit. Whether with design and code, design and writing, or design and more design. So whatever that thing is that you boldly strive for in the darkness and in the light, do that, and do it well.

* I’m not specifically talking about the ever-so-popular “Design Thinking Industrial Complex.” Not even close.

Distance; wants, needs?

Battling big decisions and how to proceed, that’s always difficult. Where do you want to go? Where do you need to go? Adding some distance can help.

Over the last few years, I’ve been able to take some very disconnected vacations. One time in particular, high above the Pacific, my mind wondered to all sorts of things. When it came to work, it was all about what to take on next. What collaborations to focus on. How to setup things to get certain types of clients. What personal projects would most challenge myself as well as bring the most enjoyment.

One potential endeavor I was battling in my mind, in the days before leaving on vacation, didn’t really come up. Maybe that’s because the distance proved I wasn’t all that into it, at a core level. Or maybe I was just shutting it out because I knew deep down it’s what I should do, despite it being the most disruptive and difficult.

Returning back into the flow of the working day-to-day, even though no exact answers presented themselves, the distance and the perspective it provided were valuable. What you hone in on at a distance should never be discounted. It could be the key to unlocking your path, where to go at the fork in the road, because it allows you to get out of your own way. 

NOFX the Fuck Out

Election results were fresh. They stung. They hurt. They made me super depressed. They sucked the life out. Why, you ask? Because I knew what was at stake. And looking at what’s happened since Trump has been elected, I was right. 

Anyway, on November 16, 2016 one of the greatest punk bands of all time took the stage at Omaha’s famed Sokol Auditorium. A year and half later, I still think about that night. A night of release, of obnoxiousness, of fuck-it-all-the-morning-will-be-no-better punk rock. It propelled us.

Me and a close group of friends. Of progressives who had previously assumed we, America, would be progressing in the coming years. Now confronted with complete and utter devastation to the fact that we wouldn’t be, well the only thing really left to do was to go to a punk rock show. And NOFX delivered a blood-splattering gut punch that let everyone in the audience all know we were fucked, but we were fucked together. 

Fat Mike knew the situation. He was just as pissed off as I was and he had his signature sharp, cutting wit and a microphone. Bitching and moaning and talking shit. A cathartic display of fuck-it-all-this-sucks that felt like the last refuge in the oncoming dark night. That’s the beauty, the magic, the thrill of punk. We’ve always been fucked but we were together so it didn’t matter.

Now, you could argue that I’m a respectable citizen now. Good job, good income, good home. Well-read and well-fed. A professional existence that’s concerned about property taxes and saving for retirement. So not punk. Not punk at all. 

But here’s the thing. Those of us who went through the punk scene know we’re held to a higher standard. We are better than this. And because of that, we focus on building, not consuming. We put our professional existence to use for the good of the cause.

NOFX mid-November 2016 was the only thing that could’ve kept me from total collapse. Because of them, the age of Trump was kicked off with a loud, sonic reminder we had a boot to the throat. That boot is still there, but the push back is gaining strength. And the vengeance will be real and it will be sweaty. Count on it.