Fold, stamp, glue, fold, glue, press, fold, stuff, repeat. That was a bulk of my weekend. I'm not complaining by any means. I was more than happy to help with the invitation building process. Though, halfway through I said that if we (Marla and I to each other) ever get married again, we're getting someone else to do this. Its tedious work. But necessary. You gotta build the dang things before sending them out. The sad thing is that a good 20% of the people who get them, will through them aside not knowing how much work went into each one.
Such is the way of graphic design at times. I had a real problem with it years ago. I realized that I was really just a glorified junk mail designer. Sure, it was a catalog for a high paying client, but most people toss catalogs when they get them. Or they toss them knowing the next one is coming in a few short weeks. I sat at my computer one day and thought, "What the hell am I doing?" It was then that I was fired for the second time. I just stopped caring. The work wasn't paying me back. It wasn't giving me fancy awards to set upon my shelf. It wasn't giving me speaking engagements. I had no design groupies. I had no coffee table books. No articles. No self important blog. I used to jealous of my fellow students who won first place at the design awards. I never did. Not once. Not even a third place. I just never thought like them. I never turned that corner in my right brain that made the difference. Frankly, I couldn't figure it out. I viewed it as a challenge and was upset when i lost the race.
And now, do I care? Not one bit. I honestly could give a shit that my work ends up in someone's rubbish bin or in their spam folder. I don't care because I've been successfully employed for years now. I've worked with some great companies and done some great work. And what do I have to show for it? Not much. My portfolio shows a pretty stable designer. Not too great but definitely better than a majority. Its not too designerly that you don't get it and its not pictures of my cat that I photoshopped trying to pass myself off as a "desktop publisher". The thing I care about now is providing for my burgeoning family. I would much rather have a mantle full of framed memories of my time with
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lumpyhead than a mantle of silly design awards that really no one cares about. Not one employer has asked me about how many awards I've won. Sure, its impressive on a resume and it might get you that pompous creative director position at that swank design firm in Santa Monica. But its not going to get me any happiness over the long haul. I'd much rather have that framed moment. Because that will mean something on your deathbed. Those fucking awards can be melted down and made into belt buckles after your gone, but that picture will mean something forever. Its a millisecond that meant a lifetime. Its unquestionable. Undying. Immortal.
So I guess the point of the post (my god, you're still reading?) is that when I do care about things, I take extreme care in them. The invitation creation process was tedious, but it was a tedious that I cared about. So, it went by without a second thought. In fact, I did the design in four hours. It just flowed. Natural. Even when lumpyhead would hover over me while I designed (which I hate!), I didn't care. And even when that 20% dumps that invitation in the trash, I won't care. Because I know the one that we're going to keep and frame and place on our mantle will mean something to us forever. That's what important.
Now, where's my award for best future husband?
cheerful
calm