Playing it Safe

While I was quite happy with my poster yesterday, today is just seemed okay. I had a suspicion that it was too safe. It worked well, but I felt like I didn’t really push myself.


Type Poster

Stacie essentially confirmed my suspicion when I asked her. She also commented that I seem fairly familiar with type, and that I need to get myself to a place that I’ve never been before.

I thought about that the rest of the day. Perhaps I’m not acknowledging that through writing, editing, and web design, I’ve been working with type for some time. In retrospect, I kind of feel like I did a bunch of things I’ve seen done before. And I am now viewing the arrows as a copout or a gimmick.

That said, I’m probably not going to hang the poster on my wall, unless I want to remind myself to go beyond mediocrity.

In case you think I’m beating myself up, I’m not. It’s actually a bit inspiring to realize there’s a place I can go that I’ve never been. And it’s exciting that I have no fucking clue how to get there.

I keep imagining an open field at the edge of a forest. Tall grass.

Beers with Dan

Dan caught some of us after class and asked if we wanted to grab a beer later.

Um, yeah.

We spread the word and met up at some new place in Point Breeze that I had never heard of called Point Brugge. It’s a nice place with limited outdoor seating and Leffe Blonde, Oberon Ale, Stella Artois, and Chimay Triple on tap. The also have quite a few Belgian bottles.

Beers with the head of the school of design: Graduate school is so way cooler than undergraduate.


Comments

2 responses to “Playing it Safe”

  1. Point Brugge rules.

    Aside from that, stretching yourself and not making safe choices is a process that you’ll fight for two years–and really, the rest of your life, if you are like me.

    I think the poster looks pretty good.

  2. Thanks Dan. I think the poster looks pretty good, too.

    I guess what I’m acknowledging—and what you identified—is the struggle between staying within your comfort zone and stretching yourself, and my feeling I didn’t stretch enough.

    There were others in the class whom I think did not believe there pieces to be that strong. But they attempted things that had a higher risk of failure. While they may not have pulled off what they hoped, I admire their effort.

    In the school environment, I don’t think it’s about who has the best piece. I say that in direct odds with what half of me thinks, since I always want to be the best. That’s another struggle, I suppose: risking failure in an effort to stretch myself while dropping the idea of competition.