Why Artistic People Are Insane (Or, Why We Are All Teetering On the Edge of Being Van Gogh)

Maybe the title is a bit misleading, but I still think it's apt. Think of every creative person you've ever known, artists, musicians, writers, inventors... the list goes on and on. The majority of them are a little on the eccentric side, aren't they? Even the normal-looking ones. Deep down, they're ragingly, droolingly insane... Really.

Okay, so we're not quite that bad. But I do hold fast to the notion that you have to be at least a little bit insane for this business. I mean, really. Why else would you willingly put yourself through the things that we do every day? Deadlines that will keep you up for 36 hours straight, clients who think they're more creative than we are, clients who have absolutely no concept of what it really takes to put a piece together, impossible demands, no real time to yourself, phone calls at all hours, press checks at 6:30 am on a weekend that turn into an all day ordeal, vendors hassling you for money, you hassling your clients for payment, and the absolute ability to turn on your creativity at a moment's notice.

And that's not all!

Show our contestants what else they've won...

A lifetime of every cousin you have and every Joe Schmoe on the street telling you, "I have this little program that came with Windows that does that. I'm a designer, too." You ask if he went to school for it. "No," he replies, restating his previous qualifier, "But I made this great garage sale flyer for a friend of a cousin of an uncle of a neighbor. It turned out pretty well. I think I'll go into business and be a designer, too."

That alone will be enough to make you want to cut off an ear, although the urge will be more likely to cut off theirs.

What the "self-taught" designers don't seem to realize is that the years of college, whether community, state, or whatever, don't teach us how to be creative. They teach us the tools and the technical know-how so we don't completely suck at our jobs. If you're not creative to begin with, all the schooling and all the graphics software in the world will not help you.

That's not to say you should skip the training if you think you're creative. Training teaches you the history, the richness of the art, the tools of the trade, and how to hone the creativity you have so you don't make the mistake of using 16 fonts, a mis-matched rainbow of colors, and every Photoshop filter ever invented in one tiny little ad. The next time you see a project like that in progress, smack the "designer" up-side the head, and ask them what the hell they think they're doing. Because that is not creativity. That is using all the tools you have just because you have them. Being able to use a tool does not mean you're suddenly an expert. I can use a hammer, but that doesn't mean I can build a house.

You also get a lifetime of being completely misunderstood. People don't know what you're talking about when you tell them what you do, distant family members think you're some weird street artist that lives on the brink of poverty and hustles passersby for their cash, corporate co-workers (and clients) think you're so far beneath them that they can treat you like a slave, and the illusion your professors gave you in college about making $100K a year starting is exactly that. An illusion.

So why do it at all? It's love. A fiery burn in the pit of your soul to pursue the one thing besides family and friends that makes you truly happy. If you love the work, sitting for hours in front of a computer screen, redoing that one image because it's just not perfect yet, then this career is for you. If you're in it for the money, don't even start it, because you will burn out in six months and waste two to four years of your life, living on minimum wage and a second job to find that out.

I've long resigned myself to this career making me crazy. Maybe I already was a little bit. Either way, the insanity helps keep me sane.

Next time, "Insanity Builds Character: Or, Why I Was Deluded into Thinking I Was Going To Be Rich and Famous in this Job"

I'm starting this blog for the future budding artists because I'm fed up and burned out, and except for therapy (which is unaffordable on a meager artist's salary), this is my outlet. Welcome. This is what you have to look forward to...

I've seen and heard a lot of things in my designer's lifespan that would make your hair curl. It's amazing that anyone actually thinks they want to do this for a living. And yet, here I am. For some insane reason, I can't get enough.

So what qualifies me to comment on design? I'm an art director for an international corporate in-house marketing department. I went to college, and I've been doing this in one form or another for a good ten years.

"Oooh," you say, wiggling your fingers sarcastically in my direction. "So what? Everyone's an art director these days." I've also found (at least around here) that the actual job description of "art director" varies wildly depending on how uninformed the company you work for is. It can range anywhere from "graphic artist" to "creative director, just one step below the big boss".

My job description right now contains all of the following: Senior graphic artist, creative direction, marketing think tank, copywriter, technical writer, traffic manager, vendor liason, advertising consultant, salesman, negotiator/mediator, design teacher, morale booster, therapist, web designer, illustrator, print buyer, proofer, accountant, event organizer, and Mac networking techie. Needless to say, I'm kinda tired.

I have nothing but praise for the people who start their own agencies. You have to be all that and more. But I work for a big company. Supposedly, when you move up the ladder, you have more paperwork and less design work, because there are people below you who get to do the fun stuff. There are also supposed to be people in the other departments that do all the other stuff. We don't get that luxury for some bizarre reason. I think it's some sort of weird anomaly.

The company I came from before had over a dozen people working in marketing. We had a Marketing VP, an Art Director, 2 designers, 2 senior designers, a scanning specialist, a Mac network admin, a traffic manager, a print buyer, 2 copywriters and at least 2 interns at all times. And we were ALL busy.

Moving into a new company, which was the same size as the previous one, we had 4 people: the prerequisite Marketing VP, the Art Director, one other graphic artist, and an offsite copywriter.

Now... "Why," you ask, "is there a VP and an Art Director, when there are only two other employees?" Good question. (And I lied a little when I said there were only 4 people. There are 4 in the design section of Marketing. The department actually encompasses the Event Management area as well, so that adds a whopping 2 more people, who actually have nothing to do with design.)

The company actually started off with the VP before there was ever an actual Marketing department. I started as an artist, but was "promoted" when I finally convinced them that one person cannot function on 15 hour days, 6-7 days a week, for 11 months out of the year without help. I use the term "promotion" lightly, since it was only a title change. I'd already been doing the previously described workload almost from day one.

But it's late, I have an early day, and so I've completed my complaining for tonight. Next time, gentle reader, I'll start the rant about the actual work, and why artists have to be at least slightly insane to even consider making it in the industry...