Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about time. More specifically general concepts and eras of time I.E. past, present, and future — let’s talk about it.

The concept of time is always something that seems to scare people including myself. It might frighten you or those you know in different ways, but it affects everyone and always exists as a factor for our work. The thing I’ve been thinking the most about though is not about how time scares me — but more about how I view time and current events taking place within it.

I’ve recently caught myself multiple times being consciously aware and convicted of taking for granted the current events in the present, wishing I had the same drive that I did in the past, and looking forward to what might come in the future. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve become more aware of the fact that I don’t appreciate things as much as I could in the moment.

Lately I’ve felt creatively stuck looking at a wall when it comes to new ideas. I’ve found myself looking back at old work trying to figure out how I had such good ideas back then and usually being impressed by myself because I forgot how I pulled off certain projects. I’ve caught myself even trying to remember what my process was with older designs so that I could replicate that process in present day and maybe design something that I feel proud of currently. However, in contrast to this — I’ve noticed a recurring theme when I dig into old work. The theme is that I vividly remember not feeling like my idea was that great in the moment. But somehow, looking back on the idea always ignites me in a way that I know I didn’t feel while producing said work.

This could also be said about opportunities. I used to fantasize about having a solo exhibition. Getting to curate an entire room of art that was exclusively mine. I would sit and imagine what it would feel like to walk into a room and be greeted with physical works of art that were once just loose ideas that floated around my head aimlessly without form. And then I had a solo exhibition, but after it was all said and done it didn’t change me like I thought it would. I had envisioned that having a solo show would somehow force my career into overdrive. I’m not sure where that idea came from, but it obviously doesn’t work like that. We can call it wishful thinking or ambition but in reality it’s really just kind of immature isn’t it? Everybody has experienced this. Hoping for something to happen, it finally happens, and then you realize it’s not all that you thought it would be. Having a huge idea, acting on it and seeing it come to life, and then realizing that the idea was just an idea, and not a life-changing switch that was flipped. I’m not trying to sound like a pessimist, I’m just trying to organize my thoughts into this newsletter. Why are we always excited for more but let down when more doesn’t give us what we want?

Do we really want more?

Do we know what we want?

Are we innately ungrateful?

I don’t think so. I consider myself a very grateful person. I think the real problem is an uneven scale that most of us have developed between patience and hunger.

Every passionate person is hungry for the next thing, but often times we don’t want to have the patience to appreciate the current thing. So what do we do in situations where our own work requires patience out of us? (I’m not writing that out in the form of a question rhetorically to answer it I’m genuinely stumped here.) Imagine how refined some ideas could become if we accepted the fact that the idea itself is crying out for us to step away and let it grow up a little bit. Not every design will land on its own two feet on the first attempt. Maybe we would learn that not every idea is worth acting on if we stepped away and learned from our patience.

The more I dwell on this whole train of thought the more I realize that some ideas are just meant to be had and not raised. But this is beside the main point of this installment to The Newsletter.

It frustrates me that I can’t really guide this whole idea into a certain direction but I guess this installment is more of an open conversation. If someone would have told me 3 years ago that I would be doing the projects that I’m doing now I probably wouldn’t have believed them. But here I am doing them wishing that I could be working on a larger scale or a bigger idea. There’s definitely something to learn from every creative endeavor no matter how big or small it might be — I think the hard part is just getting comfortable with being patient. Patience rewards the slow learner because the slow learner is acquainted with patience. They’re friends — and I’m learning that I might not be as close with patience as I thought. Perhaps that’s the key to appreciating the present. But who knows, one day I’ll figure it out.

Thank you for reading Installment 9 of The Newsletter.