I recently attended HOW Design Live, a professional conference for Visual Designers in Atlanta. While many of the talks were both inspiring and informative in their own right (running short videos on mobile via sprite sheets and javascript, strategies for fully responsive product design, considerations for contract pricing) I was most impressed by the broader themes shared across multiple speakers. What made them engaging? What made their work stand out?
Simply put, more than any other commonality, it was clear that the most compelling careers were also the most prolific. Creation trumped almost every other metric, and each artist had untold sums of work to choose from in terms of showcasing.
This is one of those truths I know in my head but still need to incorporate in my heart. Thomas Edison famously said, “I have not failed, I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Herbert Lui penned a fantastic post looking at quantity over quality in a number of mediums. Some of the best creatives I have had the pleasure of working with all had a mind for constant creation - the humming of mental machinery always churning out new stuff. Good or bad doesn’t matter, all that matters is it wasn’t there before.
A few examples stuck with me. Tiffany Schlain, creator of the Webby Awards, spent as much time showcasing punchy, pithy chunks of wisdom in her many videos as she did addressing the audience through slides. When she ran over time and asked if the audience had time for one more, the crowd thunderously applauded yes. Amy Webb, Founder of the Future Today Institute, delved into a body of work that spanned multiple industries and multiple points in time, each a research project in and of itself. Von Glitschka, known for his work on Dungeons and Dragons and other iconic brands, showed project after project that serendipitously paved the way forward for his career. Off-hand collaborations and productions became staple pieces of his story arc.
What’s clear is that the path forward for each of these speakers was lit, foremost, by their constantly growing body of work. Like stepping stones to get across a river, each new project presented a new angle and new opportunity by which to advance forward or laterally from their current position. Thus pure, unfiltered creation must be the oil to the engine of a career.
It gave me much to think about in my hotel each night. One of my favorite questions in determining life direction is, “what did you love to do when you were growing up?” For me, that answer is split between two distinct goals.
Making Just for the Sake of Making
Whether it was flat compositions in Photoshop, movies in Macromedia Flash, landscapes in Bryce 3D, clay sculptures, or graphite sketches - my childhood was one spent creating ceaselessly.
Sharing with Others
Some of my happiest moments were playing video games I designed alongside my brother and friends, watching the view count go up on early movie portals, or introducing my latest film to a local festival audience. My work products forged many of my most unforgettable connections to others, giving a jolt of satisfaction as I built new bridges in unexpected places.
Thus seeing these professional artists and thinkers adhere to those same childhood principles gave me a targeted view of what a career grounded in raw creation looks like. New gigs found through sheer volume of work, doors opened through spontaneous delivery, willingness to create regularly, openly, and without judgement. This, more than anything else, was the pattern alongside the most prominent and compelling speakers at HOW Design Live. The quality of deliverable they shared was a product of the vast library they had to choose from.
This realization posed a real challenge to me and my process. Often times under the gun for deliverables, direction, and the overarching idea of “done,” I forget that to make something good I often have to make a whole pile of bad. It can be painful knowing every pixel being moved on the screen is just a stepping stone to something that can’t be seen yet - that work products will be left in the frothy current as simply marks of a passage. Yet the end product is always better in having been stress tested under the rigors of raw, unrelenting creation. It’s this, more than the technical minutiae and one-off tactics saved away on my hard drive, that will yield a lasting impact on my life.
