they're crafty.

this weekend, i attended chicago's renegade craft fair. the weather was gorgeous, the designs were abundant, and the tunes! mr. dj spun an awesome array of rock--big star, beatles, hollies, nerves...need i go on?

walking from booth to booth, i noticed consistent themes in the designs. peacocks. owls. squids. cassette tapes. retro robots. steampunk. (loved the peacocks. in fact, i picked up a gorgeous purple peacock blouse from loyalty and blood and a dynamite peacock tunic from megan lee designs.)

i also visited my friend--and co-worker--barry's booth. he + his girl own barry's farm, the coolest place for laptop + iPod sleeves.

the whole adventure was so exciting + inspiring. it made me think. a lot.

growing up, i loved making art. in high school, i considered it as a career, but--in all midwestern practicality--believed that art was simply something to do in your free time, or when you retire. a career means making money + providing for a household, not following your dreams. i mashed all passion for art into the furthest recesses of my brain. i did everything you're "supposed" to do. go to college, pick a sensible major (business, in my case), get a safe job in the insurance industry, decorate the cubicle with encouraging quotes, go to mary kay parties, eat stauffer's lasagna. that lifestyle fit me like a too-tight, itchy wool sweater--in july. i knew it wasn't "me," but i had denied what i really wanted for so long that i didn't really know who "me" was.

after spending most of my 20s in a bland, domestic fog, i walked away. i was tired, angry, and sick of feeling helpless about my circumstances. now, at 31, i'm finally discovering who I am and what I want.

and i want to make art.

paralysis!

ever experience pure, unfiltered panic where you can't think, can't move, can't articulate, and you definitely, definitely can't create? that's me, with a particular assignment that's been the bane of my existence for over a week.

the squares.

using adobe illustrator, i'm supposed to arrange groups of squares to represent unity. sounds easy enough, and by sneakily peering at my classmates' work, they get it. but i'm frozen. adobe illustrator renders me helpless, zapping my brain and hands stiff as rigor mortis.

i feel that whatever i come up with will be boring. uncreative. generic. stupid. everything i've created so far looks like the purina dog chow logo. i can't think beyond squares. checkers. chess. tic-tac-toe. crossword puzzles. disco dance floors.

aaaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh!

a "duh" moment

i have this romantic notion that, with a few classes here, a couple projects there, and my oh-so-fab sense of style, yes, i too can be a graphic designer.

not bloody likely.

i'm going to have to devote more time to my graphic design studies, pure + simple. i can't spread myself paper-thin with writing projects, music projects, speaking engagements, saying "yes" to too many people and expect to be a stellar design student. i wish i were one of those go-getters who can have a million things going at once and excel at all, but i'm not.

discipline, discipline, discipline!

unity

thursday we talked about some principles of 2d design, like unity, balance, scale, rhythm, and emphasis. while listening to the lecture, i wracked my brain for examples. i kept coming back to album covers. and the albums i kept thinking about? kraftwerk's. great instances of proximity, balance, and emphasis by color.

hmmmm.

here's a question i was too embarrassed to bring up in class. so. are black + white movies actually "greyscale" movies?