Looking Backward and Forward

I've probably spent my time the same way as many other people have this last week, trying to put together the final few pieces of their presentation, writing their abstract, and frantically trying to finish work for other classes.

I admittedly feel a bit out of gas.

Looking over my presentation materials I realize that this first semester was a lot of research, sifting through iterations, bad ideas, and aggravation to synthesize one tiny little logo (that I've still not quite fully resolved yet). Mentally, this has been the most challenging semester I've ever had.

Often, you get a brief with an objective. There's room within it for creativity, but a lot of the direction is spelled out. It's very different and exponentially more difficult to not only figure out what you want to do, but then figure out exactly what your project mean, and generate content.

I suppose that was the burden of picking a student group to dissect. I often felt like I was trying to push a brick wall over to discover new things, to really understand what The Roosevelt Institute was at its core—in conjunction with a class of people dedicated to pushing back on your ideas. Unpacking what the group means and then visualizing it is the fun part, but getting from Point A to Point B has been humbling. Not all my ideas have been good, some good ideas have been short-sighted.

Was it all pain?

No, there were moments when I was genuinely so pleased to discover something new. I remember when I stumbled upon the notion of overlap and connection that has come to define the visual aspect of my project. It was late, but I excitedly ran over to Anna's studio and said, "I think I have something! I think I have something worthwhile!" Only to realize, I was basically holding a piece of paper with a Venn Diagram on it and expecting it to make sense.

And although the push-back from people (Hannah, Stephanie, the cohort) has sometimes produced a more sluggish pace than I maybe prefer, what I'm getting from it is really more than I could have hoped. An unexpected consequence of this project is how much I'm coming to understand my creative process, the different ways I approach problems, how I could stand to better approach them, and how I work through ideas.

When I was watching Chelsea's mock presentation today, I began to see how short a year really was for an artist. On the timeline of a creative life, it's a blip. She spoke about how she considers her work now an extension of things she came to understand two, three years ago.

I started thinking about how, really, this project began for me two years ago. I transfered here from Michigan State, I didn't know anyone, I'd just broken up with my then long-time girlfriend and just had a real feeling of loneliness for the first time in my life.

I started writing for The Roosevelt Institute because it connected me with people who cared about similar issues, who saw the need for a middle road in politics, where decisions were made from careful reasoning—not knee-jerk reaction and party platform. When time could no longer permit, I tried to lend a hand with flyers and posters for events.

My father told me when I was a kid, "The best plans come with patience," and I consider myself to be rather methodical and analytical. Yet, this coming semester I need to ensure that doesn't obscure creative freedom, that I'm not too careful to create for fear of being hammered by someone for a poster not working.

I cannot, no matter how hard I try, extract criticism of my work from my personal being. That's not to say I consider a person's comments an affront, but rather, I devote long swaths of time and sleepless nights to what I do produce and my natural reaction is always one of anguish when it's not perceived how I hope.

Over break, I think it would greatly behoove me to create a timeline and some constraints to push myself along.

I know I need to decide on color and typography, I also would really like to create a set of posters that express The Roosevelt Institute and potentially could be used by them. In doing so, I'd need to make some formal decisions about how I create white space, if I'm going to use photography, if I use imagery. If so, what kind? Do I want it to be purely typographic?

It makes sense then that I start those things at the beginning of the semester if they are my priority, I can worry about example ephemera (buttons, t-shirts, business cards) at the end if I have time.

That all said, I'm looking forward to a break, however brief, and hope that over the semester I've improved on showing my work, talking about it, seeking advice out, and showing precedent that entices me.