The portfolio that I thought was done? Nope. Three weeks later, I’m still up at 3 am trying to get the HTML just right. It’s frustrating in that moment. I’m mad, I want to kick the laptop across the room into a pile of dirty laundry (because during midterms, dirty laundry is stacked everywhere!
Sure I’ve read design books, taken the classes and worked in the field. I meet deadlines and sometimes lack passion. But this is another story. This portfolio is like graduation day for my artwork: a place to showcase all the fabulous things I can offer. Tiny lines aren’t quite right, there’s dithering around the images. I can’t find the right words to say or how to get another f*cking page for a multi-page site.<br>
So I angrily stalk the interest and slowly, I am calmed by floods of good design. I’m seeing what they saw, for the first time: the lines and typography. The delicate dance that white space does with the composition. I see good design! Lots of it! I see code that is right and things that make sense and I scribble notes and flick between their webpages and mine. Click. Click. Click. I take the time to correct image files. I optimize jpeg for web. I spend time with the minutiae because I understand what balance must be struck.
Suddenly, I learn more in a week about design than I have in seven years. I am feeling it, understanding it. It’s autonomous, not cerebral, it can be palpitated, comprehended and well, it sinks into your brain, making impressions.
I get it! I get it! Some times, its not about reading the book, it’s about becoming so desperate that you throw yourself into it and leap into the wind, realizing you are flying on the back of the letter forms.
Okay, I perhaps I passed out and that was a dream?!