Category Archives: Hand Lettering

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Last week, you may recall, I stopped blogging for a few days. My life has become chaotic recently, and I needed to let a few things go temporarily. To compound the overwhelm, I was feeling like a failure. Last January, after two years of a packed work schedule, I decided that 2013 was going to be different — that I would take less work, be less busy and just do less in my life in an effort to enjoy myself more. You can read the post I wrote about that decision here. I had a great opportunity in early January to make that happen. At the time, I was working on only a few projects and I was set up to have a year of balance. As a freelancer I am lucky: I get to decide what work I take and what work I decline. No one forces me to take a job when I don’t have time in my schedule. And that’s a great thing.

But something happened. Sometime in mid-January, a whole bunch of work, including two book offers and six illustration jobs, landed in my inbox. And I said yes to all of them, in a flash, without much thinking. Two of the books are huge endeavors. One because I’m writing it (and not illustrating it) and another because it includes 900 illustrations (which I had 4 months to complete). Last week, things came to a head and the impact of my workload (and being way out of my comfort zone) made me realize I had made a huge mistake. I had done everything I said I wouldn’t do. I had taken on too much, was busy and overwhelmed and miserable.

A former coworker calls those moments when you realize you have made really bad decisions “come to Jesus” moments. I am not religious, so for me this is was not literally a “come to Jesus” moment. But figuratively it was. Now is the time I have to step back and face the facts. I have to attempt to learn from the impact of my decisions. The impact was that I was working 11-12 hour days, 6 days a week to meet all of my freelance work obligations. All the while, planning a wedding and trying to be a good partner to Clay. The impact was insomnia, not eating well, bad anxiety, exhaustion.

There was a time when I asked the universe for “a lot of work.” I thought that’s what I wanted. When you are starting out as a freelancer and you have very little work and struggle to pay the bills, often times “a lot of work” is the goal. And, on top of that, you want great jobs and clients. Over time, I got all of that: a lot of work and amazing clients.

So what happened? I think the main problem is that I am still learning how to say no to exciting opportunities in service of a better quality of life. I want to do it all. Last week I attended the TYPO Design Conference in San Francisco. Designer Satsuki Shibuya gave a great talk on this very topic. A bout of frightening illness caused her to totally re-evaluate her work/life balance. She reminded us simply that we cannot do it all. Humans are not bionic. And, that, in fact, our lives (and our work) will be better if we take on less. DUH, I thought. It’s such a simple concept, so why is it so hard for so many of us to grasp? Do I live in fear that if I say no, I’ll never have a great opportunity again?

Which brings me back to January. I can’t rewind the clock. I made commitments to clients that I need to fulfill. And I need to do my best work for all of them. So, for now, I’m still working a lot. And I’m still pretty tired. But what I do get is another chance. I can decide never to let this happen again. I can decide to start over once this hectic period ends in June.

I love what I do. I love being an illustrator and I love working hard at it. I love my clients, and the vast majority of the work I’ve had in the last three years has been incredibly exciting and fulfilling. I want to keep doing exciting work for great clients. But I’ve realized I’m not going to love my work anymore unless I also have time for breaks from it — to hang out with friends and my partner, gather new inspiration, make personal work, play, explore, be adventurous.

Thank goodness for second (or third or fourth) chances. I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

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Last night I went to hear Cheryl Strayed speak. For those of you who don’t know Cheryl Strayed, she wrote the National Best Seller Wild and last year released Tiny Beautiful Things. Ever since reading Wild (and I am currently reading Tiny Beautiful Things), I have fallen in love with her, not just as a writer and story teller, but as someone who, because of her life experiences, is an incredibly authentic, empathetic, wise woman. She is also, by the way, a fantastic and charming public speaker.

Last month, I signed a book deal with Chronicle Books. My book is due to be released in 2014. This book is different from the others I’ve worked on, and that’s because I’m writing it, not illustrating it. In the end, there will be 30,000 words in my book. Aside from this blog, on which I post five days a week, I have never written much in my life. So I have become increasingly interested in knowing as much as I can about the writing process. I am devouring essays and podcasts by writers about writing. I think it might be akin to someone who realizes they are gay, and then reads as much as they can about the experience of other gay people. I am a writer now, and, in order to understand my own experience, I want to know what the process of writing feels like to other people.

Last night someone in the audience asked Cheryl Strayed what the editing part of the writing process was like for her, and how did she decides what to fight to keep in her books and what to let go of. Her answer was very comforting to me. She said, you know, when you write a book, you hand it to your editor (sometimes more than one), chapter by chapter, and she gives you her opinion about what should stay or go and what should change (and that lots can change in that process from the original manuscript). She said that sometimes you have to fight for the things that you want to keep in your book, but that you also have to balance that with trusting another person’s opinion about your story and what might make it better. And, she said, most poignantly, this is no different from being in a relationship or parenting or life in general. Sometimes you have to listen to yourself and fight for what you want, and sometimes you have to let go and trust other people to decide what is best.

I just started writing my book, and have barely finished the introduction and the first chapter. Already there are times when I feel totally cracked open by the editing process. I am a humble writer. I know I have so much to learn. And so I welcome the critique and feedback of my editors (I have two), because I know in the end it will make my book better (and they have been, by the way, amazing and generous with me so far). And yet, it still feels hard and overwhelming to work on something for hours and hours, only to have it changed and altered and critiqued. For some reason, it feels harder than when I go through rounds of changes with my illustrations for clients. Maybe my writing is more personal to me than my art? Not sure.

Another thing I learned from Cheryl Strayed last night is that the pain of editing a book is necessary, just like the pain of editing your life (your relationships, your work) is necessary. I am learning that owning the entire experience of my life, even the really hard and shameful parts, is critical, not just to being a good writer, but also to being a good human. And I am always aspiring to be a better human, even if I am occasionally a shitty writer.

On that note, I’m off to finish chapter one.

Happy Wednesday.

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Two weeks ago I started a beginning yoga program. Those of you who know me well might be thinking, “WHHHHHAAATT???” But, yes, it’s true. I did.

So here’s the story: I had to quiet my mind, and there is no way in hell (at least not yet) I’d be able to meditate. So I started with what they say is the preparation for meditation: yoga.

I’ve always been a yoga nay-sayer. Too touchy-feely (I think the current term is “woo woo”). Too slow moving. Not aerobic enough. Confusing. Too many words I don’t understand. Too many sequences I can’t remember.

But then I got desperate. I am working really hard on living in harmony with life’s challenges, and so many people in my life (people I trust) swear by yoga as a calming, centering influence — a way to put the stuff we stress out about in perspective. So when we moved to Oakland a month ago, I started looking to see if there were yoga studios in my neighborhood. And sure enough, there are. And I walked into one three weeks ago and asked if they had a beginners program. The woman at the front desk told me they just started one, and the first class was Tuesday. I took this as a sign.

So the following Tuesday I went. My teacher’s name is Avenelle, and from the minute I met her, I loved her. So that helped. She is a great teacher and explains everything (basic hatha poses and sequences and what they represent). She is so gentle and kind. And she has a great sense of humor. The class is tiny. I’m with other beginners and nay-sayers. And I don’t feel confused or lost.

And, so yah, I actually like it. Not only do I like it, but it seems to be working. I am learning not to hold my breath. And I am feeling more relaxed. I am worrying less about stuff over which I have no control. And I am sleeping better.

I think in a couple weeks I’ll be ready to graduate out of the beginner program to a regular yoga class, which I am a little nervous about (it’s like wanting to stay in kindergarten forever). But I’m also sort of excited. I found something that is helping to make me feel more grounded and less anxious. I have a long way to go (both in yoga and in developing a stronger sense of equanimity in my life in general), but I am glad to have taken this leap. It’s reminding me that I am often so judgmental about things I really know nothing about. And that keeping an open mind can change everything.

Happy Wednesday.

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Have totally lost sight of this recently. Getting back on track this week with the love. It is the key to all good things.

Happy Thursday, friends.

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It’s an active time for me: I’m moving, juggling six separate (and exciting) illustration jobs, planning a wedding (hee hee, notice how I didn’t use the term “busy”). Sometimes I find myself sighing dramatically in despair because I begin to feel overwhelmed. And then I remind myself: I chose this. I chose all of it, even the parts that suck (the packing, the deadlines).

Then (and this is the hard part) I am trying to remember to embrace it — all of it (even the packing & the deadlines). And I realize that attitude changes everything.

There was a great article in the New York Times Sunday about the importance of relaxing — and how taking time to relax actually increases productivity. I’ve been thinking a lot about how to balance my internal drive to work with periods of intentional relaxation (I’ve written about this in other contexts before). I plan to use my move to a completely new environment as an opportunity to start a new practice: taking regular breaks to rejuvenate (at least one a day) — to walk, lie down with my eyes closed, read for 20 minutes. I need to get beyond just thinking about taking relaxing breaks during my work day — to actually relaxing. I’m not philosophically opposed to relaxing, per se, it’s just that I get so caught up in my work on most days that I don’t lift my head from the desk or look away from the computer for hours at a time. So this will require being more mindful and intentional.

I’ll let you know how it goes. Here’s to embracing all of it.