I won! I actually won! (Woo hoo!)
So, what now? My long wait is over and I’m no longer frozen to the spot. But I’m still feeling the cold through my feet. It’s at this point I realise I’m going in the right direction, but I’m approaching it in the wrong way. I make small, progressive steps, then pause to look around me, even looking backwards. I’m hesitating about the next step, unsure of when to move. I feel off-balance, unsteady, like I need some additional support. Can I do this? Turning back feels like a choice, but that would only get me back to the start, and all those previous steps wouldn’t count.
My path is made of stepping stones. They have natural pauses and when you go too slowly you lose your flow. If you hesitate at the wrong moment, you stumble into the water, and your feet get cold and wet.
It’s far better to take quick, successive steps. That way you build momentum, and your sure-footedness increases with every stride.
Lesson 4: Hesitate on a path of stepping stones and you risk losing your balance. Keep a smooth, steady pace until you reach the other side, and only then pause for breath, reflect back and prepare for the next one.
The post Logo Logic: Pathfinder first appeared on Filbert & Smudge.
Against my better judgement, I had my logo design resolved by the time I’d driven home from work. But, as is often the case, there’s a huge difference between what I see in my head and what I create on the page (or computer screen). I’d committed all three of these brainstorming problems in the space of thirty minutes (and not for the first time either):
- I chose my first idea, and was absolutely certain it was going to work.
- I stayed stuck in my head, resolving the whole design during my drive home (which eliminated my anxiety).
- I ended my brainstorming prematurely (had I actually started?).
If you’re looking for a little brainstorming guidance, I can highly recommend this article by Art Prof Clara Lieu. She describes my own flawed brainstorming technique perfectly (although I’d take my ideas right through to the final evaluation without giving them any fresh air to germinate).
My first idea was based on a Venn diagram. It was to be a flower of random-shaped petals overlapping a circular centre. Pretty obvious? Thanks to Clara’s advice I jumped further and further away from that idea…
…and finished here…
Still no word on the winning logo, but in my mind I’ve already won. I tackled this design challenge with theory instead of emotion, and allowed it to reach its own natural conclusion.
Lesson 3: Dilute creative block by brainstorming your thoughts on paper, and nurturing them. They’ll suffocate if they’re kept hidden away inside your head.
The post Logo Logic: Doodles Do first appeared on Filbert & Smudge.
I began this series explaining how my long-standing self-doubt almost triggered creative freeze.
The leap from brief to beginning can be huge, ginormous, even. I might pretend I’m researching a project, kidding myself that this constitutes Step 1 when I’m really hunting hypotheses instead of conducting the experiment. However, when I feel my faith resurface, the leap to Step 2 can be sooooo much easier.
With this particular project, once I’d got the creative cogs turning in my brain my journey looked a little more achievable. And researching the topic of diversity and inclusion rather than the logo design process was a better use of my time.
I spent four nights working on my idea, fiddling with it to make sure it was just right. But even after I’d entered it into the competition I continued to worry about it, and sought the opinion of others. Past experience left me doubting my own judgement, and I was back in limbo. Now I’ve had a chance to step back from it I can celebrate making a start and finishing it too. Whether or not I won isn’t so important.
Lesson 2: Give yourself and your creative project space to breathe, from beginning to end. You’ll learn to trust your own judgement rather than relying on the opinions of others.
The post Logo Logic: Breathing Space first appeared on Filbert & Smudge.
I’ve just spent the best part of a week wondering whether my outside-the-box logo design was a winner, having entered a staff competition to design one for my employer’s Diversity and Inclusion network. The winner should have been announced on Friday, but wasn’t.
At this point I feel like I’m in limbo, unwilling to move onto another project and so facing another pause in my prolific creativeness. On the flip side, this is a great time to reflect on what I’m feeling and where I go from here, and I’ll write about these insights over the next few posts.
Most work competitions involve a quiz or a guess the quantity of something, so a logo challenge excited me, closely followed by my well-rehearsed feelings of self-doubt – “five days isn’t long enough / what am I going to do? / will anyone like it? / my last one was terrible…” and so on.
When I was 15 I designed the winning logo for a local charity competition, and received lots of publicity, with my photo in the local press, and an interview on local radio. I even met charity patron Kathy Botham (wife of Ian), and the Irish comedian Jimmy Cricket, who was appearing at the local theatre. I’d won prizes in several school art competitions before and after then, and decided my future was in art. However, another attempt at logo design was disastrous, prompting my sixth form art teacher to suggest I specialise in fine art instead of graphics. It felt like I’d gone over the highest peak of my artistic potential and had started the slow descent.
You can imagine why it’s often easier to walk away from a challenge, if only to quieten the critical conversation you’re having in your head. But I didn’t want to make up a pitiful excuse for not bothering (“my colleagues know I’m creative, they’ll expect me to enter”). My only choice was to try.
Lesson 1: Acknowledge your fear, and coax it forward, or it will hold you back.
The post Logo Logic: Creative Freeze first appeared on Filbert & Smudge.
Have you ever asked the universe for advice, or taken guidance from a dream?
It’s not something I’d ever thought of doing until I learned that ‘it’ had guided successful watercolourist Anna Mason back into art after a long hiatus. And last week I justified my own reasons for asking for myself.
I was sceptical at first, conscious that I might inadvertently seek out the ‘answers’ I was hoping for. But with nothing to lose, on two consecutive nights I asked the universe to shine a light on my future path. And on two consecutive days, it did.
For example, on day one, the model for my weekly life-drawing class was the life-model I drew at art college over ten years’ ago, but haven’t seen since. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Yet it was the first time he’d been booked by that class, and I myself had missed loads of them (including the previous three weeks). There were other hints, and I’m still receiving encouragement. However, they all were, and still are, pointing me in the same direction. And who am I to argue with the universe?
It seems I am on the right path, but I may need to adjust my compass.
The post Dream Believer (2) first appeared on Filbert & Smudge.