Posts Tagged ‘books’

January marks the three-year-anniversary of the day I told my employer to “take this job and shove it” (in all ser­i­ous­ness, HB Stu­dios was a fant­astic place to work, but Office Space was what gave me my moment of epi­phany required to take the leap). Three years seems like forever ago, and I’ve learned so much since then, but it’s always good to look back and figure out what I could be doing better.

So, where my major issue has always been burnout (both of the cre­ative sort and the plain old good lord, am I ever exhausted! variety), I’m looking to add more work-play bal­ance to my life. Over the past year, I’ve become better at adding play to my life, and, just in the end of December, I found myself unex­pec­tedly doing things I’ve always meant to do while run­ning my busi­ness, but have somehow man­aged to evade quite con­sist­ently: eating and sleeping on a daily basis, working less than six­teen hours a day, and playing with cre­ative pro­jects that take me away from The Machine.

My poor kit­chen table. It is utterly COVERED in ink stains now.

What I’m excited about for the new year, not sur­pris­ingly, are also the things that I’m pas­sionate about in my life. (more…)

I’ve had the cra­ziest last-little-while: per­son­ally, pro­fes­sion­ally, oth­er­wise. I took my first vaca­tion in years and dis­ap­peared into the Mayan jungle for a week, and I’ve just recently returned from just shy of a full month spent on-the-road, living out of suit­cases and back­packs and the trunk of my car. It’s been utterly fabulous–exhausting and refreshing sim­ul­tan­eously, and just what I needed to return to my life & busi­ness with a clean brain & slate.

I have many stories and pho­to­graphs, which are forth­coming. For now, two new pro­jects: the hol­iday cards I mean to do every year, and a redesign and rear­chi­tec­turing of Fern­wood Pub­lishing.

Because I’m sure that those of you who know me well don’t hear enough of my thoughts on design. This is a ques­tion­naire I filled out in response to a freel­ance job posting. It was quite an exhaustive pro­cess, actu­ally, and I only had a short time­frame in which to com­plete it, but I gave it my best shot. (I’ve edited out the “tech­nical” por­tion and the examples & attach­ments, as that sounded a little too much like a high school test for even me to be inter­ested in it!) (more…)

It’s been offi­cially a year today. A year of no paycheques, no health bene­fits, no vaca­tion time. No nine a.m. starts, no staying indoors all day staring at a com­puter screen, no mon­strous amounts of unpaid over­time. (Okay, I lied, all of those things have happened, and worse.) I love that I can say that I’ve been run­ning my own busi­ness for a year and I’m still in love with it.

I’ve had the chance to work with a huge range of com­panies and people over the past year, pro­du­cing a range of dif­ferent pro­jects. I’ve done news­paper ads, illus­tra­tions, resumes, and a whole slew of web­sites, logos, busi­ness cards, and bro­chures. I’ve learned how to use Quick­books, I’ve stream­lined my pro­cesses, I’ve learned some AJAX tech­niques, I’ve rewritten my CMS code base, I’ve read about grids and typo­graphy and golden ratios. I’ve lost out on con­tracts, and I’ve taken on pro­jects that thrilled and chal­lenged me. I make an awful lot less money now than I used to, and I prob­ably work harder. But it’s just so much fun.

How­ever, my one-year-mark is a time for ser­ious con­sid­er­a­tion. What’s my goal here? Where am I going? How is my little busi­ness going to grow up? And, most import­antly, how can I keep doing what I love, stay sane, and make enough money to keep me in chocolate and red wine for the rest of my life?

I am coming to realize that:

1. Del­egate, del­egate, del­egate. I am a creature of many tal­ents, but I am not any of the fol­lowing: Salesman. Accountant. Pro­grammer. Mech­anic. Stop thinking you can do everything, and start spending more of your time doing what you are good at and do enjoy.
2. Nothing comes quickly. Pro­jects will take longer than you expected to reach com­ple­tion. A two-minute fix will turn into a two-hour ses­sion of slam­ming your head against the wall. Some­times you’ll put an inor­dinate amount of time into researching an estimate for a pro­ject you’re not awarded, only to be handed a bigger and better pro­ject a year down the line. A lot of what I do is investment.
3. It is great to be a work­aholic, but make sure you get at least three seconds of fresh air every day.
4. Stop taking things so per­son­ally. Not everyone can think you’re the next coming, and some days, you will just suck. This does not neces­sarily mean that you are a total failure in all areas of your life, and it is cer­tainly not cause for a mental breakdown.
5. Nancy Reagan was right, sort of. Some­times, you should “just say no”. As a small-business owner, it’s easy to fall into the trap of jumping at any­thing that dangles a cheque in front of you, but that’s not really why you’re in this busi­ness, anyway, and it’s cer­tainly not the most important factor to consider.

These are my mon­sters. I’m hoping that, by this time next year, I’ll have mas­sacred at least half of them.

I did the cra­ziest thing this Sec­ular Hol­iday Season: I took time off work. I drank brandy with my Granddad and went pretty-dress-shopping with my little sister. I adopted an almost-semi-regular sleeping pat­tern. I drove a snow­mobile for the first time ever. I went to mid­night mass, also for the first time ever. I curled up with good books (not for the first time ever). I even went a few con­sec­utive days without checking my email.

It was fantastic.

The week before Christmas, of course, was utterly insane. Ever since I was little, I used to spend the month of December staying up late, gluing and building and painting, frantic­ally trying to get everyone’s hand­made presents fin­ished on time. A few years ago, I stopped this entirely. One year, I did all of my Christmas shop­ping at the liquor store (various pretty bottles full of sauce for my alcy family) and gro­cery store (Hershey’s Kisses for everyone I love). It really did make things easier.

I’m not even entirely sure how it happened, but this year, that beau­tiful idea flew right out the window. I had a week, and a to-do list of other things on which I ought to have been focusing, but somehow I found myself up all night again, trying to teach myself to solder and etch glass and quill paper, all with varying degrees of suc­cess. I was stressed out to the nth degree, my hands were black and covered in cuts, I was rationing my sleep and avoiding my work—but I think that it was really good for me, too. It’s been too long since I sat down and did some­thing with my hands, and I forget how nice it is to get away from this screen.

And I think, in the end of it all, I made pretty neat stuff. I made orna­ments (rel­at­ively suc­cessful), and ginger­bread (suc­cessful in terms of my baking ability, which is nil), and mono­grammed glasses. I spent hours making a styl­ized por­trait of my little-sister/best-friend (which I’ll be sure to post once I’ve fin­ished the final details, so maybe by NEXT Christmas). But by far, the most ambi­tious endeavour was a set of throwing stars for my boyfriend.

The target wasn’t hard:

Although I should have put cork on the top layer, and painted that. It’s com­posed primarily of banker’s box lids stuffed with copies of this awful free barhopper’s magazine that I stole from around town, and it’s going to fall apart pretty quickly.

The throwing stars them­selves were a little hit-and-miss. Only one is actu­ally soldered together, and it took three nights of sanding, sol­dering, and cursing to get that right—and as you can see, it still came out angled wrongly and tar­nished and covered in bits of extra solder. The rest are held together with various dif­ferent glues, elec­trical tape, and wires, and though they don’t look as stun­ningly beau­tiful as I’d been hoping for, they’re all razor-sharp and they stick into things you throw them at.

I’m back into the to-do listing and manic, sleep­less nights, but I still feel refreshed, and as though I’m attacking things with new vigour. Over half of my to-do list con­tains unbil­lable tasks, and I keep get­ting ideas for new pro­jects and pro­cesses. Maybe it’s just because the snow is melting out­side and birds are singing, but I feel like my burnout might be rekindling.

Happy New Gregorian Cal­endar everyone!

P.S. Hey, look! It’s a crazy Art Deco logo!

So according to the Gospel That Is the Internet, I have an ambi­dex­trous brain. (See: pretty bal­anced between the left and the right sides.) As with most self-evaluations, this came as a mon­ster of a rev­el­a­tion to me. Sud­denly, all my years of con­fu­sion and ambi­val­ence seem less like a per­sonal failure. For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like I’ve been con­stantly fluc­tu­ating between two ends of a dicho­tomy, and it caused me a great deal of anxiety when I was a kid. (I still haven’t learned that I have better things to worry about than my self-identity.) I like math and art. I’m inher­ently chaotic, but always hyper-detail-oriented, and, every now and again, neur­ot­ic­ally organ­ized. I always assumed it had some­thing to do with my bipolar nature. I’m a woman of extremes, and don’t often do the Middle Ground. (more…)

So busi­ness is good, I think. It’s still too early to tell, and there’s so much going on that I’m trying to stay on top of. Quick­books, in par­tic­ular, is eating up my time like some sort of mon­ster. I used to think I liked num­bers, but I think it’s time we broke up.

Lots of new work in the pipeline, along with some old pro­jects that are being wrapped up. I fin­ished a logo and web­site for the Nova Scotia Lib­eral Party Lead­er­ship (rather a mouthful) and am main­taining it as the cam­paign pro­gresses. A few new things should be crop­ping up soon, but I’m going to set pre­ced­ence by staying quiet about them until they’re finished.

Going from a part-time to a full-time busi­ness is as much of a chal­lenge as I expected, but I’m get­ting lots of sup­port from people, and I’m learning as I go. And being able to work at 4am, and take a noon­time nap? Yeah, it’s nice.