Sunday, August 8, 2010

36. Count 'em, 3.6.

On a pretty regular basis, I get super stressed out and decide, I need to write something down. I need to get these thoughts and ideas and to do lists out of my head and onto some paper so I can think straight.

So, I open up a notebook, and put ink to paper, all the while, thinking, wow, this is going to make me feel SOOOO much better.

Today, I'm finding that all these moments of crazed note-writing haven't really gotten me anywhere. They ease my racing mind for a while, enough for me to sleep through the night, or enjoy a cup of coffee without having an aneurism, but ultimately it's brought me to this:

36 notebooks. Yup, 36 of 'em. Spiral-bound freebies from seventh street filled with lists of what I ate and how far I ran in February of 2008. Paperback moleskins with only a couple notes in each, like a grocery list, or a recap of a 3pm phone call with someone named "John." Hard-cover journals filled with poetic tidbits that I thought I might someday string together into one complete thought. Then there are the sketchpads, fat with tracing paper, rag paper, watercolor paper, graph paper, all different sizes and oozing with half-cocked ideas for ads and invites and logos and room layouts.

The funniest part is, for the life of me, I can't manage to fill a single one. The anal-retentive perfectionist that I am, you'd think I'd buy 100 of the same notebook and fill them methodically, marking each page with the date and the purpose of my note. (I wish.) But no; my urge to create order by writing lists and jotting my thoughts down has only lead me to a further state of confusion, standing in the middle of my office, searching through my stacks of 36 partially-used notebooks, for that phone number for the shoe repair guy, that sketch for the best way to reaarange my living room, or my to-do list from last week.

Not only am I incapable of filling a notebook, but I also can't throw one away. (God forbid I waste a perfectly good sheet of paper.)

Ultimately, these ludicrous stacks of notebooks prove only that, despite my attempts to combat it, I'm actually quite scatterbrained. But I like to think the bottom line is this - I dig a blank sheet of paper. I dig the wide-open world of the half-empty notebook waiting to be filled. There's nothing like knowing that there's always room for more ideas, more ways to skin the cat, and more places our minds can go. Because as long as there's an empty sheet of paper, there will be thoughts to fill it.


Note: This blog entry may or may not have been ghost written by Andy Rooney.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

And you call yourself a designer....

Recently I've found myself running across a lot of these so-called "designers." You know the type; their 1st grade art teacher said they did beautiful finger paintings of owls and parakeets, so now they've grown up and taught themselves Photoshop (probably on a PC), created an invitation for their sister's graduation party, hacked together one sloppy logo using Curlz MT, and viola, they're a designer. What's even more ridiculous, they're ACTUALLY MAKING MONEY with their "skills." People are paying actual hard-earned money for this stuff! 


I'm not saying you have to go to college and get an expensive degree. For the average person, it helps, but there are those rare high-talent high-ambition cases where people succeed in the design business without a BFA. Those are some of my favorite people, but that's not who we're talking about here.


As a traditionally-trained process designer, with professors who force-fed a diet of Swiss typography and design history, and with my fierce love of all things Pentagram, and an unnatural obsession with the writings of Michael Bierut and the designs of Louise Fili and Paula Scher, I'm pretty pissed about this whole talentless designer crew. These ignorant jerks are not only degrading the quality of our profession, but for all intents and purposes, they are stealing money from their clients. Clients that could pay that same money to hire a good, qualified, strategic designer and get much better work out of it. Not to mention better results from a business perspective.


The solution? I think there should be a certification required to practice design and charge clients money. You should have to pass some sort of test to be allowed to legally call yourself a "graphic designer." I hope some day we find a way to put all these no-talent ass clowns, out there producing half-cocked design, out of business. 


Now, I don't claim to be any sort of design genius. I didn't go to RISD or Kent. I don't take sabbaticals to Italy or Switzerland for month-long typography courses led by Wolfgang Weingart (though that would be super awesome if I could). And I've worked with a million people who are better than me, smarter than me, or more experienced than me. (Ok, well maybe not a million.) But I wouldn't go out and start writing medical prescriptions without learning the different between my ass and my elbow, or start building houses without learning how to properly use a hammer. These "designers" wouldn't know good design if it slapped them across the face. 


So... if you're one of them, do me a favor - don't ask me to follow you on Twitter, or endorse you on LinkedIn, or look at your crap portfolio online. I wouldn't endorse you in any way shape or form even if you paid me a thousand dollars a word. Hell, make it a thousand dollars a letter. While you're at it, do the whole world a favor - put down "Graphic Design for Dummies" and go find a new career. Maybe you'll find something else that you actually ARE good at. For you and only you, I ask that you not "Flame on," but rather, blow out.

Who is this "AdvergirlOnFire," you ask?

Well, like any pseudo-superhero, I have no plans to divulge my actual name, location, employer, or true eye color. But I will tell you this - I'm known for my hot temper relating to bad design and advertising. It's gotten me in trouble a few times. But for the most part that fire has served me well. It's put me where I am today, in a decent job surrounded by talented people who love to collaborate to make great work. For this I am eternally thankful. I have a passion for what I do, especially relating to design for a cause, and bettering the advertising community through a committment to design education.

So, why start a blog? Well, I can't actually fly or anything, so the best way to get the word out is just to write it down. And I figured I could use an occasional venting session. (Hey, it's cheaper than hiring a shrink.)

STATS:
Secret Super Power - Fire-ball throwing.
Motto - "Flame on!" (Ok, I stole that from the Human Torch. But whatever. I'm not a copywriter.)
Achilles' heel - Poor design. And penicillin.
Favorite color - Blue (That is the hottest part of the fire, you know.)
Arch nemesis - PC Python & his henchmen "Make it Blue" and "Make my Logo Bigger"

With that, I hope you enjoy this blog, that it sparks a bit of a fire in you, or at the very least, that it gives you a good laugh every once in a while. 'Till next time....