I was browsing Marc Hummel’s blog today, and came across a post of his that caught my attention:
Going to School for a Career in Graphic Design is a Joke
(For me, anyway.) I started off as a super-enthusiastic student… staying up
late to work on assignments, reading everything I could about design. I either
got burnt out or a heavy dose of reality: graphic design is just not for me.
During my last semester studying design I would struggle to work on every
project I was given, perpetually putting them off in favor of listening to NPR
or re-writing the copy in the very project I was avoiding. I spent days working
on my art history paper. The visual thesaurus was my favorite tool. I enjoyed
my English classes the best, by far. The dormant writer in me was active and
craving attention.
Going to school for something like painting or graphic design stifles the
very creativity it’s supposed to invoke. It’s not that I can’t handle the constant
critiques, but that I feel so much more free to make good, meaningful work
when no one’s looking; telling me what a client would say or to make it more
“sellable”. Perhaps it’s a sign of low-self esteem that I couldn’t shake the advice,
or that it’s hard for me to work for others. But I think it’s also my self-seriousness
and wanting to do well, wanting to impress a professor and my classmates, that
created expected, boring work. Maybe it was an acknowledgment of risk in
making fresh work but without the motivation to suck it up.
Or maybe I’m just full of shit and it really just comes down to this:
-I’m a good graphic designer, but I don’t think I can be a great one
-I’m a good writer, and I think I can be great