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Posts by: Darren Yeow

Adrenalin Shot: Work Hard Brah!

Posted by on Jun 16, 2011 in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
Adrenalin Shot: Work Hard Brah!

So you can have the best art school­ing in the world? You study under the best teach­ers? Watch the most inspir­ing tuto­r­ial videos?

That’s good…but if you are unwill­ing to ded­i­cate time and effort over and above what is “required”, or place the impor­tance of con­stant prac­tice above watch­ing TV or play­ing video games or get­ting drunk with friends…then you’ll never make it in the com­mer­cial art field.

For every moment you decide to goof off, there are thou­sands of oth­ers who are prac­tic­ing and get­ting bet­ter and grow­ing and they are your com­pe­ti­tion for a very very very small pool of jobs and assign­ments. Do you like com­pe­ti­tion? You’d better.

Push past your limits.

- Daz

Facing (Some) Freelancing Fears — Part 2

Posted by on May 26, 2011 in Art, Resources | 7 Comments
Facing (Some) Freelancing Fears — Part 2

Wel­come back to Part 2 of Fac­ing (Some) Free­lanc­ing Fears. It’s a con­tin­u­a­tion of part 1, which you can find here.

Apolo­gies for the delay, I hope this helps you out if you’re think­ing of going, or are already tra­vers­ing this path.

Mar­cus Hits Me Back…

Hi Dar­ren

Thanks for reply­ing so quickly.

You’re def­i­nitely right about get­ting com­fort­able, I had a 2 year con­tract that ended a while ago and I got pretty lazy with that job. I stopped push­ing my art skills and busi­ness devel­op­ment dur­ing that period, so that when it came time to start free­lanc­ing full time again, it was almost like begin­ning again. It is def­i­nitely some­thing I need to be mind­ful of this time around.

I also agree with the sav­ings, 6 months of income reserve is def­i­nitely some­thing I will aim for. I recently bought an eBook from Illus­tra­tion Island which rec­om­mended 3 months, but 6 months would be best given my cir­cum­stances. I’ve got my finances in order, so my sav­ings are steadily climb­ing. Def­i­nitely going out a lot less, draw­ing more and sav­ing more money in the process.

Regard­ing my fears, I think it comes from a few things, I’m not totally sure.

Maybe it’s my pas­sive nature? I wasn’t par­tic­u­larly good at con­tact sports like foot­ball, because I would feel bad for knock­ing some­one down and would lit­er­ally stop to help them back up. It landed me on the bench a lot. I guess it’s why I got into golf.

When I was young, I was almost always alone, so I guess I like soli­tude. That soli­tude is per­haps what makes me fear­ful of get­ting into the whole com­mer­cial art scene I sup­pose. I fear my work is not good enough, that its not orig­i­nal. I dont have a style. I have always envied those with such an indi­vid­ual style. My art has been mostly self taught and it’s a lonely world to live in where I’m my only critic and my only client.

I recently went to book pub­lisher to see if I could get some work. They loved my stuff, and I need to make a port­fo­lio for them. So I have cre­ated some art to put into it…but not enough for a full folio, and I don’t know if I can moti­vate myself to con­tinue adding to it.

It’s my fear sab­o­tag­ing me again. It’s so full on, I don’t feel like I deserve that kind of chance — I’m not estab­lished, I don’t know enough about art, I feel like I have just fluked my way to this point. It feels like I don’t know if I have done things the right way…people like my pic­tures and I don’t know why, so I don’t know if I can pro­duce more good work. I see other artists emerg­ing slowly, hav­ing exhi­bi­tions, going to schools…I have done none of this.

Do you know what I mean by a fluke? Like I have no real train­ing to fall back on. I went to Julian Ashton’s art school for 3 months, I found it really hard because it was so slow and it was very much all about draw­ing things per­fect which I got bored with. I appre­ci­ate Ashton’s, but it just wasn’t for me.

Mar­cus

My Reply…

Hi again Marcus,

No prob­lems about the reply…you sound a lot like me ear­lier in my career. So, let me try to address each point you bring up.

Firstly, I think it’s great that you’re reach­ing out to oth­ers, try­ing to learn, read­ing books and teach­ing your­self. I think it’s impor­tant to recog­nise that, for peo­ple like us, a lot of this comes from an under­ly­ing feel­ing of  “I don’t know what I am doing!”

You never quite feel that you’re worth what you are charg­ing, even if it’s not that much, because you haven’t been schooled in art, it’s like you’re not wor­thy, so it makes you eter­nally curi­ous and you grab onto and remem­ber things other artists say, snip­pets of infor­ma­tion, here and there to some­how build up your under­stand­ing and con­fi­dence on how things are sup­posed to work.

As a self taught artist myself, I com­pletely under­stand where you are com­ing from. We sim­ply don’t have the voices of our teacher’s to help guide our path early in our careers, we don’t have the lux­ury of ask­ing our­selves what they would do in this or that situation.

The truth is, it’s a bless­ing in dis­guise and as long as you are mind­ful that you will always feel like you don’t know enough, it will serve you well in your career. I’ve been through and felt every­thing you listed, so find some com­fort in know­ing that you’re not alone. 7 years ago, I some­how lucked out and some­one started pay­ing me $300 a week ($14,400 p.a. — no pay for time off or breaks…all of it invari­able went to more art books hehe) to work as a con­cept artist. Not much money but I wasn’t going to com­plain as I’ve never been trained! I have even less school­ing than your 3 months, so you’re already ahead of me :)

The first 3 years of my career, I still felt every­thing was a fluke despite the fact that I was by that stage a senior con­cept artist and then an art direc­tor pre­sid­ing over other artists who did have qual­i­fi­ca­tions. Was it scary? Did I feel like I didn’t deserve it? Was it a fluke? I felt all those things. I did things one way, and peo­ple seemed to like it, but I didn’t know if it was the right way or not.

In my spare time, I read inter­views with suc­cess­ful artists, lis­ten to them talk­ing on mp3 inter­views and watched a ton of train­ing DVDs. The under­ly­ing thread I noticed, was that every­one, I mean EVERY sin­gle artists, pro­ceeds with their work in a slightly dif­fer­ent way, every­one works their way because it works for them and it allows them to end up with a good end result. That alone, the knowl­edge that there IS no sin­gu­lar “Right Way” was and still is empow­er­ing for me and should be for other artists too.

You do things one way, and it works but you’re not sure if it’s the right way? Let me tell you right now, not even know­ing how you do your art, it’s the right way, because the end result is the thing that mat­ters. You could be the first per­son to drag their dick in the sand to come up with their art and it would be the right way, because you end up with the art you want and need.

So you help peo­ple up who you’ve knocked down? Hell, you sound like a good indi­vid­ual mate, the world doesn’t need you or me to knock some­one else down to bring myself up all the time. There is of course an ele­ment of com­pe­ti­tion out there in the free­lanc­ing world, but that doesn’t mean you need to be an aggres­sive ass­hole. I (and I’d ven­ture to say the major­ity of com­mer­cial artists) don’t feel the need to stomp on other peo­ple to get jobs. I sim­ply go out there, say my piece, try my best to con­vince some­one that they need my skills and con­vey that I am a pleas­ant enough per­son to deal with, so that peo­ple won’t hes­si­tate to do busi­ness with me. If some­one likes and trusts you (and can afford you!), assum­ing you can do good work, that’s all some­one needs to do business.

I do dif­fer in some ways from you regard­ing to com­pet­i­tive­ness though. I am a highly com­pet­i­tive dude, I always have been, but I used to HATE com­pe­ti­tion, just like you. If some­one else liked the same girl, I’d pass. If some­one wanted to go for the same job, I’d pass. I was com­pet­i­tive, just as I believe most peo­ple are com­pet­i­tive, but I was also deathly afraid of fail­ure. At some stage, you have to just sit down and go, okay, so if I do fail…what’s the worst that will hap­pen? The world won’t end, you’ll pick your­self up from rejec­tion and go to the next thing, and the next thing after that. I learnt to do that ear­lier in my career, but it’s a skill, and skills can be built, it’s no nat­ural tal­ent. I hated pub­lic speak­ing, so I did more of it until I wasn’t scared of it any­more, same thing.

If it will make you feel any bet­ter, I’m still plenty fear­ful about things, but the dif­fer­ence is that I’ve been through all this enough times to know it will end okay, it’s how you man­age fear that is the decid­ing fac­tor between quit­ting and car­ry­ing on.

Tak­ing it a step fur­ther, I actu­ally think fear is good to an extent, it means that we will not go into some­thing unpre­pared. It only becomes a prob­lem when it stops us from doing some­thing, that’s when you need to rein in fear and recog­nise that most of what we fear is inex­plic­a­ble and really…not that bad if we were to screw up. Peo­ple put too much stock into — oh if I fail my life will be over. My take is to just do it, like Nike says.

Style? Do you have weak­nesses? Yes? Then you have style. I once heard that our style is deter­mined by our weak­nesses and lim­i­ta­tions. With my art, I have this crazy wonky-ness to all of it, it has become recog­nis­able as my style, but you know where it began? It began with me being crap at copy­ing someone’s facial fea­tures accu­rately. It was always a bit crooked, so one day, instead of try­ing to get every­thing per­fect, I said screw it and made it even more wonky — I had more fun, it cap­tured people’s like­ness and I stopped wor­ry­ing about whether I had style or not. It grew out of my per­ceived lim­i­ta­tions and yours will too, just give it time and don’t pay it any mind. Draw your influ­ences from far and wide so that no one par­tic­u­lar artist influ­ences you to become a clone.

Pas­sive natures, I don’t really believe in (and I could be wrong mind you!), I think just about every­one has a line in the sand, that once stepped over will force some­one to become pro-active, trou­ble is, you need to find out where that line is. Some­one says they’re a paci­fist — you put a gun to their daughter’s fore­head, you’ll see some­one com­ing to end you. It’s all in recog­nis­ing where our bat­tle line is, and we all decide for our­selves where to place this line and how to act once we cross it.

Final point — you’re an intro­vert, you’re quiet, you pre­fer your own com­pany and you’re hap­pi­est being when you’re alone and arting.

Me too buddy, but that hasn’t stopped me from speak­ing in front of large audi­ences, teach­ing art at uni­ver­sity with pas­sion, it hasn’t stopped me from writ­ing in my blog and get­ting my opinon out there, nor has it stopped me from writ­ing for some of the most well known dig­i­tal cre­ative mag­a­zines on the shelves, it hasn’t stopped me from want­ing to drive my art beyond the pale of the com­mon artist and it hasn’t stopped me from know­ing that I mat­ter and that I can cause a dif­fer­ence in people’s lives…just as you can. That intro­ver­sion of yours shouldn’t stop you from doing any of those things either, all you need to do is to believe that you can do them all and much much more.

If you have no firm goal or direc­tion for your­self, any­thing out­side your com­fort zone is scary and unreachable. When you are able to train your­self to look beyond all that, to the dream you have for your life, and when you want to achieve that dream with all your heart, obsta­cles will crum­ble, you’ll become com­pet­i­tive, you’ll become extro­verted, you’ll push past lim­its you didn’t even realise were limits.

But you have to start by know­ing what you want, and doing every­thing to make that the sole dri­ving force behind your life.

Okay, real final point this time — read some books on extra­or­di­nary peo­ple, I do all the time, revs me up, push­ing me on, makes me feel like I can do it all despite people’s asser­tions to be real­is­tic. You and I have grand goals for our lives, screw being realistic.

Daz

Final Note from Marcus…

Hi Dar­ren,

Thanks for that, I am so grate­ful for your detailed response, I see you care deeply for your art. I don’t really have much to say now, just tak­ing it all in. I feel like shak­ing your hand lol. I’m going to do some drawing.

Thanks again, Marcus.

Well, that wraps up the advice I had for Mar­cus. Just keep in mind, this is my own point of view, there are plenty of oth­ers, so seek them out and con­tinue to grow.

I sin­cerely hope this has helped some of you out there and answered some ques­tions for you.

If you guys or girls care to share any of your own expe­ri­ences or point of view about this topic, please do so beneath, I’m sure many peo­ple would ben­e­fit from it :)

Catch you on the upside!

Daz

Facing (Some) Freelancing Fears — Part 1

Posted by on May 5, 2011 in Art, Resources | 4 Comments
Facing (Some) Freelancing Fears — Part 1

Fre­quently, when I am asked ques­tions about illus­tra­tion or free­lanc­ing, I have already blogged about it or answered it in my FAQ, so I gen­er­ally direct peo­ple to those resources when­ever I can.

There are of course still plenty of ques­tions that I have not answered and when one of these pops up, I will usu­ally take the time to write a detailed answer from my perspective. Then with the per­mis­sion of the ques­tioner, I will post the response for my read­ers, because shar­ing is car­ing and makes us col­lec­tively, a more well informed seg­ment of the work­force, thus increas­ing our cumu­la­tive sway in business.

Mar­cus got in touch with me through my Face­book account (add me here) and has been fol­low­ing my work and blog. He asked me some things that touched me on a per­sonal level and I felt that I needed to answer them, mostly for Mar­cus, but a lit­tle for me as well.

The post pri­mar­ily delves into cer­tain aspects of the men­tal­ity needed for free­lanc­ing, how to face fears, feel­ing like a fraud, style, things of that nature, not so much on the busi­ness side of things — hence the “Some” in the title.

As the sec­ond part of my response is long, I have decided to break this into two sep­a­rate blog posts.

I sin­cerely hope you get some­thing out of it, enjoy…

The Ques­tion

Hi Dar­ren,

I realise we have never spo­ken before, so firstly I must say that I admire your pas­sion for art, and how much drive you obvi­ously have. Your art and words inspire me. So if I may, I feel the need to ask you a few things if you had the time? If you don’t reply that’s fine as I under­stand you must be busy, but I would greatly appre­ci­ate some advice.

My back­ground is that for the past 3 years I have been paid for cre­ative work such as illus­tra­tion and graphic design. Cur­rently I am a part-time graphic artist at a mag­a­zine. This new job is almost per­fect for me at this point in time because my future goal is to free­lance solely in illus­tra­tion. The part-time work gives me steady income as well as time to work on my own art and what­ever free­lance work I pick up.

I feel that I have things hold­ing me back from jump­ing into the illus­tra­tion world completely.

Being a graphic artist comes easy to me but it is not my pas­sion. I love draw­ing but I feel I keep sab­o­tag­ing myself. It’s like I’m afraid to com­pete, I’m not really a very com­pet­i­tive person…I feel that I lack the game-face that many illustrators/commercial artists seem to have. I think the lack of con­fi­dence in myself is obvi­ous. It’s so annoying.

I know im still at the very start of my artis­tic jour­ney and per­haps I will prob­a­bly learn this even­tu­ally, but I was won­der­ing if you had any insights? Per­haps you have cov­ered some­thing sim­i­lar to this in pre­vi­ous blogs so feel free to just direct me to it.

Thanks in advance.

Mar­cus

My Response

Hi Mar­cus,

Thanks for get­ting in touch and the kind words! Yep, art is def­i­nitely a large part of my life, I’m glad it’s the same for you also.

It sounds like you’re in a good place right now, part time work is a great step­ping stone that is often the basis for most illustrators/freelancers, but I also feel it is impor­tant at some stage, to plan your exit once you have enough expe­ri­ence and an income reserve — typ­i­cally 3–6 months to cover costs, I pre­fer 6 months myself as I am a cau­tious person.

The main prob­lem you have to be mind­ful of when you’re work­ing part time, is that it’s very easy to get into a com­fort trap, where you always have an “out” with your part time job “Oh, it’s okay that I’m not get­ting much work, I have my part time job to fall back on.”

This mind­set reduces the imme­di­acy of the prob­lem of find­ing more work, which means you’ll always be sail­ing at half mast. Your senses sim­ply aren’t tuned into a fight for sur­vival mode.

When we are in this men­tal space of sur­viv­ing, we are capa­ble of dras­tic changes and we will either do what is nec­es­sary to sur­vive and live or we will crash and find out we didn’t have what it took this time around. We feel alive when we are doing this, because we are act­ing as cap­tains of our own des­tiny, at the same time it can be scary because we’re not sure we can sail the ship.

This is a nec­es­sary mind­set for free­lanc­ing suc­cess­fully, and it is very dif­fi­cult to embrace if you’re still being paid con­sis­tently by some­one else as an employee.

Before I advise you on the rest of your email…what do you fear? Why don’t you like to com­pete? Why do you feel you lack con­fi­dence? Get back to me with these answers and we can keep chatting…

To be Continued…

That’s all for now, short and sweet!

As usual, if you have any feed­back, com­ments or advice you feel is per­ti­nent to this topic, please leave it in the com­ments sec­tion below. And if you think that this infor­ma­tion will help any aspir­ing free­lancers, please share the link…sharing is car­ing, help spread the knowledge.

Stay tuned for part 2 in a cou­ple of days…until then, stay hungry.

D-Man

Recovery from failure…

Posted by on Apr 8, 2011 in Achievement, Mindset, Productivity | 2 Comments
Recovery from failure…

Despite my rel­a­tive youth (yeah…I’m still cling­ing tena­ciously to the final year of my twen­ties…), I’ve faced and tasted fail­ure many times in my life, some­times by my own hand, some­times at the hand of oth­ers. I’m bet­ter off for it.

Don’t get me wrong — it is never pleas­ant, it takes the shine off your day, it brings you face to face with your lim­i­ta­tions and crashes you into the dirt with dis­ap­point­ment, the dan­ger being that if you stay there long enough, you’ll never fly again. I’ve seen it time and time again, in friends, in fam­ily, peo­ple who have traded in lofty dreams for medi­oc­rity. That type of exis­tence is not for me and chances are it’s not for you either.

The encour­ag­ing thing is that if you face fail­ure well, it is only a toi­let break on the long ass road trip we call life.

This post is a record on how I face fail­ure. If you’re feel­ing dis­cour­aged, I sin­cerely hope this post helps to put you back on track.

Have I done okay? By who’s standard?

Before I talk about recov­er­ing from fail­ure and then going in the oppo­site direc­tion — suc­cess, I sup­pose it would be use­ful to fig­ure out if I am suc­cess­ful or not. Hmm.

So, think­ing back to when I was grow­ing up, I recall I was a soli­tary crea­ture who loved being alone and the thing I loved doing the most while I was alone was draw­ing stuff — mon­sters, cars, robots, babes, etc. I loved the fumes of my medi­ums, the silence, the lack of inter­rup­tions, just me and my imagination.

Look­ing back, I think it was pretty clear what my life’s direc­tion was and deep down, I guess I just knew I wanted to make art and to cre­ate a life that sup­ported this endeav­our. I know I didn’t want to work a day job to fund my art life, I wanted it to pay for itself.

Lets snap for­ward to the present — my day typ­i­cally con­sists of get­ting paid well to draw and paint in my paja­mas while lis­ten­ing to music, engag­ing in after­noon naps, play­ing video games, read­ing cool books and blogging.

Judg­ing from my per­sonal check­list of what I’ve wanted out of life, I’ve guess I’ve done okay for myself. If I judged my life on the cri­te­ria of a suc­cess­ful patent lawyer how­ever, this may be another story. On this basis, I’m sure you can deter­mine how much you want to trust my advice or ignore it.

Failure…what the heck is it?

For me, the def­i­n­i­tion of fail­ure is when you look to achieve an out­come and you (or you and your team) come up short.

Where I’ve failed.

  • I’ve stud­ied the wrong things and spent a but­t­load of my work­ing years climb­ing a lad­der rest­ing on the wrong wall.
  • I haven’t fol­lowed through on my bold promise to deliver an art team’s vision and work­load on time and at the qual­ity level promised.
  • I’ve failed time and time again to make my voice heard when it could have made a difference.
  • I’ve alien­ated friends and cre­ated ene­mies when there was no need to.
  • I’ve under deliv­ered to clients because of a fail­ure to take every­thing into account.
  • I’ve given up when the final leg of the marathon was in strik­ing dis­tance because I feared the inevitable judge­ment at the end.
  • I’ve placed trust in peo­ple my gut instinct told me not to.
  • I’ve com­pro­mised my own morals.
  • I’ve allowed rela­tion­ships to carry on for longer than their expiry date.
  • I’ve placed being liked ahead of being effective.
  • I’ve wasted time and oppor­tu­ni­ties look­ing for alter­na­tives when I had what I was look­ing for all along, right in front of me.
  • I’ve missed on dead­lines, styles and execution.
  • I’ve blamed cir­cum­stances and I’ve blamed other peo­ple for things that didn’t go right.
  • I’ve over com­mit­ted to projects.
  • I’ve cared too much.
  • I’ve cared too little.
  • I failed to inspire.
  • I’ve been too harsh.
  • I’ve been too soft.

These are just some of the things I have failed at and regret­ted. I’ve felt low because of them, I’ve wanted to run away, to hide in dark cor­ners, allow the world to turn on with­out me. It’s no under­state­ment that I am not per­fect, where I’ve faulted in the past was either absolv­ing myself of blame or beat­ing myself up men­tally to the point of being an extra on a Romero zom­bie flick.

I think this is how a lot of other peo­ple also deal with failure.

Part of the solu­tion for mov­ing on, is to recog­nise that most things are not for­ever, they don’t nec­es­sar­ily need to stay “failed”. Always aim for that elu­sive per­fec­tion, with the full knowl­edge that you will sel­dom achieve it. And don’t beat your­self up over it.

How does it make you feel?

Fail­ure in any endeavor, will usu­ally do one of three things to you — it will either make you feel noth­ing; it will make you feel pissed off; or it will make you feel like tuck­ing your tail between your legs and whim­per­ing in the corner.

I know because I’ve felt all three at dif­fer­ent times, so lets talk about pick­ing up and mov­ing on.

Get­ting past it…

Feel­ing indif­fer­ent and apa­thetic towards fail­ure means that you will nei­ther learn or grow from it. It sig­nals that you have lost the pas­sion for some­thing or never had it in the first place. It always strikes me as absolutely bat­shit insane that the major­ity of peo­ple I meet tol­er­ate a mediocre career, mar­riage and exis­tence with­out a plan on how they are going to improve things.

The solu­tion is to find some­thing or some­one else to care about or to dis­cover a way to reignite the pas­sion lost. Where there is no emo­tion, you can never hope to achieve great things. As Elie Weisel once said:

Because of indif­fer­ence, one dies before one actu­ally dies.

The sec­ond feel­ing, where you feel pissed off, for me at least has always shifted me into over-drive. If some­one pro­claims I’m not good at some­thing I want to be good at, DAMN them to hell, I’ll show that they’re wrong. I won’t argue or bitch or moan, I will sim­ply clam up in my fortress of soli­tude and push past my bound­aries so that at some point I will be able to say “In Your FACE!”

I’ve found that if it is har­nessed the right way, angry energy is an extremely pow­er­ful dri­ver for me. Part of my com­pet­i­tive nature I guess. The trick is not to let it over­take you, being a per­pet­u­ally angry per­son sucks.

The final feel­ing you may expe­ri­ence when you fail, is one of shame, you can’t believe it hap­pened and you go over it in your mind, turn­ing the past over and over again — how could some­thing go so wrong?

Self blame is typ­i­cal at this stage, and if left to fes­ter, it can really ham­per progress in your life. You need to have a heart to heart with your inner self, fig­ure out how much was your fault, how much was beyond your con­trol and how to not only avoid the same pit­falls in the future, but how to come out on top.

Read­ing the book The Monk and the Rid­dle by Randy Komisar, an incum­bent old hand in sil­i­con val­ley, brought into focus the fact that fail­ure rates are high in his cut­ting edge game changer world, but that it has been past fail­ures that have allowed him and oth­ers like him the most growth opportunities.

I played the self blame game for a looong time after I left Inter­zone games, it damn near made me quit art alto­gether, down in the dumps, no one to turn to for help, I had to rebuild myself from ground zero, go back to my roots, my dri­ving fac­tors to see if they were still there. They were, but I had to do some seri­ous soul-searching and re-configure my mind before I even picked up a pen­cil again.

It can take time…a lot of it, but this intro­spec­tion is worth it, and in my opin­ion, absolutely crit­i­cal in not hav­ing those same issues speed bump you in future endeav­ours. Once I put my demons to rest and plot­ted my new direc­tion, excit­ing things hap­pened so quickly within those next 6 months it was breath­tak­ing, but I would not have gone there if I hadn’t been through that prior fail­ure and learned their lessons well.

Where to now?

Whichever reac­tion you ini­tially expe­ri­ence, there will be a point at which you reach a con­ver­gence — as in each of these paths will lead to a sin­gu­lar point. At this sin­gu­lar meet­ing point is where you decide what hap­pens next, do you boldly try again? Do you retreat tem­porar­ily and then try a dif­fer­ent path? Do you sur­ren­der? Or do you stand still while the weeds grow all around you?

Only you can answer this one, so dig deep but remem­ber this: make your next way-point mean­ing­ful, or your fail­ure will have been for naught.

Aude Aliq­uid Dignum — Dare Some­thing Worthy

Although I enjoy and appre­ci­ate what I have, in keep­ing with the per­sonal dic­tum that human poten­tial is near lim­it­less, I will always endeavor to push on to greater heights as I believe most peo­ple should. In doing so how­ever, in push­ing bound­aries and fron­tiers, part of the bar­gain is that at any moment, whether from lack of cal­cu­la­tion or cir­cum­stances out­side our con­trols, we can fail at the things we set out to do. The less defined the path, the higher the risk poten­tial for fail­ure and only you can decide if the down­side is worth it.

I per­son­ally think it is tragic when dreams are sub­ju­gated to the fear of pos­si­ble fail­ure. We as a species have the unique abil­ity to man­i­fest abstract thought and to bring about its phys­i­cal equiv­a­lent through con­certed effort. Using our men­tal capac­ity to accept, learn from and move past fail­ure is a big part of this whole busi­ness of defin­ing a life rather than liv­ing by default.

As I leave you, let this great quote by Abra­ham Lin­coln under­pin your actions today:

You can have any­thing you want if you want it badly enough. You can be any­thing you want to be, do any­thing you set out to accom­plish, if you hold to that desire with sin­gle­ness of pur­pose. — Abra­ham Lincoln

Catch you on the flipside.

Daz

Ignore the problem…focus on the solution.

Posted by on Mar 27, 2011 in Achievement, Mindset, Productivity | 3 Comments
Ignore the problem…focus on the solution.

The title of this post is obvi­ous as hell. No shiz, thanks for telling me…but you know what? Obvi­ousity (new word I made up) means nada with­out con­stant rep­e­ti­tion and act­ing in accor­dance with “widely accepted truths”.

Read­ing is good for your brains, spend less than you earn and invest the rest is smart, eat­ing a box of choco­lates ain’t the best for your waist­line — these things are all obvi­ous, but sel­dom prac­ticed by the major­ity of peo­ple. These are some of the rea­sons why first world coun­try trends means we’re becom­ing fat­ter, poorer in sav­ings and stu­pider in general.

Why did I just men­tion all that? Maybe to pla­cate the inevitable “Well that seems obvi­ous, I don’t know why it needs men­tion”. The answer, is because some­times we all need to be reminded of sim­ple truths to reignite good inten­tions we have allowed to atrophy.

First, you need to ignore the bloody problem…

The way we have been con­di­tioned to think in this day and age (through mass media) is that the prob­lem is the be-all end all, it is the point to be focused upon, it is in vogue to bitch and moan and tell every­one how much things suck.

Whoa is me!!! If I com­plain to enough peo­ple, maybe some­one else will join in with me and we can engage in a pity party hug puddle.

Tut tut, pity is the province of those who think the world owes them a liv­ing. The world owes you, me and every­one else, nothing.

What is the out­come? You fuck your­self in the ass, that’s what.

The end result of focus­ing exclu­sively on the prob­lem will be this — you sur­round your­self with equally unhappy indi­vid­u­als, the prob­lem is placed on a pedestal before which you all wor­ship and before long it becomes the all con­sum­ing thing at the fore­front of your mind and you’re not a sin­gle step closer to alle­vi­at­ing it.

It’s poi­so­nous and you need to stop it in it’s tracks the minute you become aware of it.

No if’s or buts, if you want to achieve great things in your life, you need to over­come this mon­u­men­tal yet largely invis­i­ble problem.

Defeat those men­tal naysay­ers. Develop your own per­sonal mind guard.

We moan and bitch because we allow the neg­a­tive part of our brain to take over, it’s like the lit­tle neg­a­tive devil that sits on your shoul­der telling you that you’re no good, or that you’ll never amount to any­thing, etc.

What you need is your own per­sonal mind guard, a pro­tec­tor shrouded in tita­nium armour forged in the blood of a thou­sand Viking men and inscribed with pow­er­ful ancient ass kick­ing San­scrit from the fourth apocalypse.

The fol­low­ing used to be the con­ver­sa­tion I’d have in my head that I’d have with myself, my devil naysayer is called Demon Face and my kick ass pro­tec­tor is called Char­lie Sheen:

Demon Face: Jesus Christ, I can’t draw for shit. I’ve been at this for over 2 hours and all I’ve got to show for it is a half assed mess on the screen, oily hand marks on my Cin­tiq and an ass cal­lus from hell. Why can’t you get your fin­ger out of your puck­ered ass­hole and get some real work done?

Char­lie Sheen: Because you filthy son-of-a-bitch, this is what the ini­tial stages of art­work look like, and if you don’t like it, you can go sit in the cor­ner and suck on your thumb for a while and cry me a river. If you’d rather stay, shut your mouth and stop your sissy ass whin­ing, or I will curb stomp you, then kick you in the balls.

These days, Demon Face don’t utter much, ’cause he’s in the gut­ter, puk­ing up blood while Char­lie wails on him with a bro­ken cham­pagne bottle.

You must pro­tect your psy­che, your drive and your direc­tion because if you don’t, it will be frag­ile and your resolve will shat­ter at the slight­est of provocations.

It can be the dif­fer­ence between a life squan­dered and one that is not.

Ignor­ing the prob­lem is only one half of the equa­tion. Now, you have to think about the solution.

You can’t just empty your mind of prob­lems, it doesn’t work that way. You can’t be not-troubled any more than you can’t be not-hungry…unless you’re dead or delay­ing the inevitable that it will come back to bite you squarely in the ass.

You must fill the new void.

If you do not focus your mind on some­thing more pro­duc­tive, it will nat­u­rally lapse back into neg­a­tive thought pat­terns. Nope, you have to pre-occupy your men­tal gym­nas­tics with how you will tackle the prob­lem, aka The Solu­tion. That is where your focus and ener­gies should be channeled.

So the next time you’re landed with a prob­lem, remem­ber to stop the bitchin’ and start the solvin’.

If you’re keen on see­ing how I typ­i­cally solve prob­lems, check out this prior series of posts:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Keep whip­pin’ Demon Face’s ass, and I’ll catch you on the flip side.

D-Man

Powernaps and productivity.

Posted by on Mar 25, 2011 in Productivity | 3 Comments
Powernaps and productivity.

Run­ning a busi­ness means that you always have an end­less amount of work to do, if it’s not reply­ing to client emails, it’s bal­anc­ing the books or work­ing on new designs, and if it’s not that then it’s plan­ning the days ahead or doing marketing.

It can some­times seem over­whelm­ing, but I’ve grown accus­tomed to it and I thank God that I love doing most of it or else I would have gone postal a long time ago and buried myself in a tub of cook­ies and cream.

Why does pro­duc­tiv­ity matter?

Despite that, love for my work doesn’t change the fact that there is always a load to do, there­fore being effec­tive while I’m doing it makes sense — you get the work done quicker, more accu­rately or cre­atively which allows you to either move onto another task, or sim­ply have more free time.

Why does every­one need to work from 9–5?!

Enter the typ­i­cal work day for most peo­ple, the 9–5 monster…I just don’t think it works that well. It’s a dated, blunt force, dinosaur of a tool imposed on a highly non-homogeneous pop­u­lace. Each of us have our indi­vid­ual body cycles, some pre­fer to work early in the day, oth­ers later in the day, some of us late at night while every­one else is asleep.

You don’t work at a con­stant rate unless you’re dead…

Per­son­ally, I have always found it extra­or­di­nar­ily dif­fi­cult to remain at near full pro­duc­tive capac­ity for the dura­tion of the 8 hour work day, it sim­ply stretches far too long with­out a chance to recharge some­where in the middle.

My pro­duc­tiv­ity cycle dic­tates that for the first 4 hours of the day, from 9am-1pm, I am gen­er­ally awake, fir­ing on all cylin­ders and burn­ing through my work. Come lunch time how­ever and this slows to a crawl as my stom­ach is busy digest­ing food and I am work­ing at half mast. My eyes are droopy, I’m on autopi­lot try­ing to stay awake and hop­ing my slurred speech doesn’t make peo­ple don’t think I’m high on drugs. Later on in the after­noon though, I get a sec­ond wind and I am often work­ing up to 12am or later the next morning.

Lots of peo­ple fol­low a sim­i­lar pat­tern, but due to their salaried employee sta­tus, sus­tained pro­duc­tiv­ity isn’t a huge con­cern for them. As a free­lancer who gets paid per hour how­ever, this is a huge con­cern because inef­fec­tive time really is very costly.

This is where pow­er­naps come into the picture…

Being fully aware of this surge-lull-surge in pro­duc­tiv­ity dur­ing the day, rather that fight it, I’d pre­fer to flow with it. I’ve adopted some­what of a bi/polyphasic sleep­ing pat­tern (as opposed to a monopha­sic sleep­ing pat­tern that most adhere to) now that I also live with a part­ner who has a dif­fer­ent work sched­ule from myself.

I go to sleep rel­a­tively late as I enjoy the peace and quiet and can get a lot of my art done dur­ing the night / early morn­ing. Then I usu­ally awake around the same time as my part­ner, which would mean I don’t get the reg­u­lar 8 hours sleep. I work till around lunch time when I will either go to the gym first, or have lunch and an after­noon pow­er­nap for about 25 minutes.

After the power nap, it almost feels like a sec­ond morn­ing and this will help to fuel me through to another 6+ hours of work if I need to. On par­tic­u­larly long days, I will some­times take two power naps spaced about 6 hours apart, and I judge the neces­sity to do so based on my clar­ity of thought.

This sim­ple addi­tion of power nap­ping dur­ing the day helps me immensely, I’m able to learn more, be more pro­duc­tive around the clock and achieve more dur­ing my wak­ing hours. If you’re a uni stu­dent or some­one who sim­ply has a lot of activ­i­ties out­side of the 9–5 day, try giv­ing pow­er­naps a go, they may just be what you need to get more out of each day.

If you try it out, let me know how you go with it in the com­ments :)

Keep kickin’ ass.

Daz

New site…

Posted by on Feb 17, 2011 in Uncategorized | 3 Comments
New site…

Hey guys, a quick update, you may have noticed a lack of blog updates lately and the rea­son is that I’ve been busy learn­ing how to build my own site in Word­Press with help from Lynda.com training.

It’s been years since I’ve tried to cre­ate my own page, but I thought it was time I learnt how to, and with Word­Press and other CMS soft­ware it’s never been eas­ier, espe­cially for some­one like myself who is pri­mar­ily a cre­ative con­tent devel­oper. Hav­ing a CMS is a big depar­ture from my Com­puter Sci­ence days when we were cod­ing crappy sites from notepad. Word­Press is a fan­tas­tic frame­work that lets peo­ple like me con­cen­trate on using my core skills — ie. cre­at­ing art­work and writ­ing, rather than half ass­ing code and markup.

My pre­vi­ous site was fine for my first pro­fes­sional web­site and WeCan­Cre­ate did a great job, but it did have lim­i­ta­tions that I wasn’t happy with. Cre­at­ing my own site was the only way I could have the func­tion­al­ity and flex­i­bil­ity I required / wanted.

If you’re think­ing about going this route with your own site / blog, I rec­om­mend sign­ing up to Lynda.com and going through the Word­Press 3 Essen­tial Train­ing with Morten Rand-Hendriksen, he takes his time to explain things to noobs such as myself and there is a lot of wel­come hand holding.

I’m still in the process of get­ting con­tent up-to-date, espe­cially the gallery which has a slightly dif­fer­ent for­mat, focus­ing on projects, allow­ing me more space to explain the processes I have gone through to arrive at a final design / illus­tra­tion choice. I’m lean­ing towards also incor­po­rat­ing light­box func­tion­al­ity for those who are only inter­ested in flick­ing through the images. Please excuse the bro­ken image links, I’m still updat­ing them :)

One big addi­tion, is that I have added a FAQ sec­tion, this part of the site holds a bunch of infor­ma­tion from my per­sonal expe­ri­ence. It con­tains excerpts from blog posts, inter­views I have done with mag­a­zines, and some have been writ­ten from scratch. I cre­ated this sec­tion pri­mar­ily because these ques­tions seem to crop up pretty often. Check it out and let me know what you think or let me know if there are errors I need to fix.

In other news my lit­tle sis­ter is get­ting mar­ried at the end of the year! Very excit­ing news! I’ve vol­un­teered to be her wed­ding pho­tog­ra­pher in return for a new lens to shoot with, and I’m really excited to do it. I’ll be get­ting the lens shortly, a Canon f/2.8L 70-200mm with no IS, an awe­some zoom lens for those pho­to­jour­nal­ist shots. I’ll be tak­ing it through it’s paces when I get it, and when I visit Cambobia’s Angkor Wat later in the year with Kellie.

One other quick blip, I just reg­is­tered a new busi­ness domain. Excit­ing times ahead.

Hope your times have been pro­duc­tive, peace out.

D-giggidy.