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Art is a subjective thing. Two people will look at Jackson Pollock’s Number 5 and come away with completely opposite reactions:

“Uhhh, this sucks. I did that in my garage by accident once.”

[LONG STUNNED SILENCE] “This is genius.”

Who’s right? Who’s wrong? Nobody. One person moves on to other kinds of art and the other looks up more Pollock.

You can’t really say, “Those paint drips are wrong,” or even “You can’t use yellows with browns like that.” It can’t be wrong.

This is also true when you create a logo or graphics for a web site. Artistically, you just can’t do it wrong. Impossible. The only one who can label it wrong is the creator.

So there’s no wrong art, which is kind of a relief.

Then, there’s communicating your message.

Unfortunately, you can communicate the wrong message with visuals. Sometimes the wrong message is obvious, like if you use a skunk image on a perfume package. Most people (even skunk-lovers) will agree that skunk = stinky. Since the goal of most humans is to not stink, we can agree that using a skunk image on a perfume bottle should be avoided.

Then there are subtle messages that can be communicated with an image. There are too many to go into with this post, so I want to talk about just one. The miscommunicated message I want to address today is: amateur.

We can tell you did it yourself

It hurts when I see a poorly made graphic being used to represent an otherwise awesome business or concept. It hurts because I care. It’s painful to see because I know that people can’t always afford to hire someone like me to whip them up some awesome. So they feel stuck with doing it themselves.

I totally get this because I’m an entrepreneur and I’ve done some DIY stuff, too. I missed a whole bunch of deductions on my taxes last year. So there.

The problem with amateur graphics isn’t just a matter of taste in art. It communicates the wrong message about your content. Wobbly, weird, so-so graphics communicate wobbly so-so-ness to your audience even before you get to show how brilliant you actually are.

I’ll share a few example cases here in the hopes that you’ll recognize symptoms and be able to self-diagnose. Once you see these here, you’ll suddenly start seeing them frikkin’ everywhere. So if you’re going to stop reading this post and go watch Lost, now’s the best time.

Elastic fixes everything

Have you ever seen a photo on a flyer or a web site and it just looks… off? Like something’s bugging you about the page you’re looking at and you can’t put your finger on it? It could be the Magic Plastic Fantastic Elastic effect. Check out the two photos of the extremely handsome individual below:

The one on the left is normal size. The one on the right has been stretched. It sort of makes sense, right? You have a skinny space and a fat photo. You have Photoshop, so why not just stretch that puppy to fit and call it a day?

Sigh. Don’t stretch photos. Even if you think it’s so subtle that no one will notice, they will. Better to have empty space at the top and bottom than

I’m working on a few things this week that I’d like to share. I don’t talk much about the day-to-day details of the stuff I do at Sparky HQ, because I thought it would be boring. Who wants to hear about the stuff on my task list? Then I realized something very interesting.

I read a ton of blogs. The ones I read most often are from the people who’s success I want to emulate. My online mentors. My fountain of knowledge. Some of these people have great information products that I’ve bought and used, but bits of juicy learning also comes from their tweets or blog posts (which are free).

They’re not Top Ten Ways to Make a Sale bits, they’re you’ll never believe what happened to me yesterday bits. I like reading practical advice on how to build an audience, but I love hearing what goes on behind the curtain. It makes me feel like the success they’ve achieved is more attainable because, guess what; they struggle emotionally, lose the baby’s sippy cup, and don’t clean their office. I loved Dave Navarro’s post about insecurity and thunk that people might be interested to know (every now and then) what kind of stuff I’m thinking about or working on that’s not so public (er, promoted. ahem).

I think this will be helpful to my small biz readers who are wondering how the hell I keep this ship afloat by being goofy and drawing stuff. I don’t always do stuff “by the book,” and sometimes I even take weird risks that sometimes pay off in huge ways and sometimes go crashing down the ravine like that chicken race scene in Rebel Without a Cause.

On that note, let’s dig right in on a Happy Monday morning right after Easter weekend. Woo!

What I’m working on right now

Have A Smoothie

In case you’ve read or heard or already signed up, I won’t go into much detail about it. If you’re new, you can check out the fab semi-custom web site project that Tzaddi and I are working on together.

It’s looking awesome and I feel good about that. Like anything I do, I’ve had sporadic doubts about the value I bring to the project. Tzad is the Kung Fu WP Web Coding Master and I… draw stuff. Then I look at where we’re at and see the visuals I maded up and the pride swells. Then I start remembering why some people come to me in the first place. One person sees what I do and says, “Meh. Not really for me.” Another person sees my stuff and digs in with talons of steel shouting, “The Precious! Mine! We loves it! So juicy sweeeeet!”

Stuff comes up, you know? The only thing there is to do is focus on making it a killer package and let the Thoughts of Doom sink into my socks. I absolutely love what we’re creating, so the Thoughts of Doom don’t have as much sway as usual.

BeTween PDX

When Rebekah Villon of ADi approached me about a panel she was thinking of creating for ASIFA Portland members (an animation society), I had no idea it would morph into a full-blown unconference-type entity. She probably did, but I’m kinda slow sometimes. Putting this thing together has been a great learning experience for me. Lately I’m stretching myself with two major collaborative projects, whereas before I just holed up in my cave and worked on everything myself. This is good.

Art Licensing

Progress on this has been slow. What’s holding me back, you ask? Hmmm. Crazy as it sounds, creating the art has been the most difficult thing to accomplish. You would think that a creative guy like me would be all over the art and let everything else slide, but it’s been completely the opposite. I&rs

I get caught up in this writing thing. I love explaining visual design principles with little stories that make you laugh and see the obvious. I like talking about what I do and how I get stuff done. Being the ranter is fun when it helps people figure out how to do their own thing.

Yesterday I posted a post and then snagged it from the rotation. That’s mostly against my policy because if I censored everything I wanted to put into the world, I would never say anything at all. Suffice to say that (if you didn’t see it) this post was not well-thought out, didn’t say anything clearly, and was only mildly amusing.

It was stupid. It was beneath me as a writer and insulting to those of you who come here to read and have an awesome time. If you spent any time on it yesterday, I apologize.

New! Improved! Now with 50% more art!

When I started this blog, I was working full time and only sort of thinking about going out on my own. I wasn’t thinking about SEO or grandiose marketing strategies. For the most part, I was using it as a platform for my participation in Illustration Friday. In fact, for a fun treat, you can check out my very first post.

So on one level it’s great that I’ve grown. Since that wobbly first illustration post I’ve hung out my own shingle, connected with amazing people, and worked on some really engaging projects with super cool clients. I’ve supported my family, traveled to hobnob with famous kid lit authors, and delivered presentations and workshops on how I do what I do.

So yesterday as my stomach heaved and rolled from my stupid posting mistake (and the aftermath of agonizing if pulling it was the right thing to do), the question I belched up was just dead simple:

Where’s the art?

It’s gratifying that my posts help or even amuse, but seriously. Dude. Where’s the art? I stopped posting the art. Which is the thing I do.

This month I’m focusing on Sarah Bray’s Gold Digging Excursion. I’m sure I’m gonna dig up some chunky revelations about the site and how to make it better. I’m stoked about that. In the meantime, this is one thing I can fix right now. So from now on… more art.

Ether Bunny

I recently asked my email subscribers to come up with a caption for an Easter-themed piece. The winner gets a t-shirt with the art and their caption on it. They also got a link to download the art for a limited time to use in anything they felt like. I got some fun, interesting, and very weird captions and it was a hoot. The art is now being processed for my iStockphoto portfolio, so if you ever need a bunny with a cocktail, you can get a high-res EPS file when it’s posted. In the meantime, you can just enjoy the art.

I had to remind myself of this story today.

When I was in military basic training (yep, it’s true) there was a day that I’ll never forget. No, it wasn’t the day we could finally have more than water with our meals, but that day was unforgettable, too (obviously).

On this day our drill sergeant told us that there was a Survival Rescue team recruiter downstairs. The deal was that we could go meet him to “try out,” and – no matter what our predetermined career field – could switch to Survival Rescue right then and there.

I was first in line.

First we watched a video on what a Survival Rescue person does (essentially train pilots how to survive in harsh conditions after a crash). Then, tryouts.

Tryouts were simple. Do a hundred pushups without stopping. The dude would set the pace, so it could be fast or rrreeaaaallly slow. Dude. It was hard.

My arms gave out somewhere around 30. Even though most of us were doing face plants and barely getting our chests off the ground anymore, the Survival Rescue dude kept calling off. 45…up! Down! 46… up! Down!

He didn’t stop until he reached 100. It was an excruciating hour of sweat, screaming, and exhaustion.

This was the test. In the end, it didn’t really matter if you couldn’t do a hundred pushups. If you stood up and walked away, you were done. Fail. You passed the test by continuing to try, even if you weren’t visibly lifting your body.

Throughout the test, we were pushing each other to keep going. We just didn’t want to see anyone give up.

So this is me, telling you through my own sweat and spit and agony to not give up. Let’s get to a hundred.

•••

Does this resonate with you? Or are you put off by the rah-rah military story? Maybe this is the first time you’re coming here (welcome). Maybe you’re intimidated (I understand, but please… I’m just this dude, you know?). Maybe you think I’m kind of an idiot (sometimes I am). I accept that all these things are possible.

I’ve been getting some interesting feedback lately about the web site. Some people aren’t sure what I do, or how I help people. A few people can’t find my art even when they know what I do (that needs fixing). Some people are hungry and checking the microwave between paragraphs, but they’re reading without caring what I do (for the record, I create illustrative graphics).

This is okay.

Some people get it and some people don’t. The people who get it are awesome. The people who don’t get it are awesome, too, we just didn’t connect. I’m sorry about that, I wish we did. It happens.

If you get it, and you keep coming back around to read this odd collection of ideas, I want to say thank you. The people who comment… you make this place even better. It’s exciting to have you here. The people who feel intimidated sometimes and then email or call me anyway and find out I’m just like this strange, chatty dude… you’re super brave and cool. I’m grateful for the time you’ve taken out of your day to hang with me.

You’re the reason I keep trying to do these goddam pushups.

68… Up! Down! 69… Up! Down! 70…

My heart was pounding as I wrote this post.

It was a good pounding, though. Pulmonary palpitations on purpose.

I’ve started running again.

The Backstory

About four years ago, we were living in Washington, DC. I was working for the top litigation consulting firm in the States, which meant crazy, hard work and long hours but in a lot of ways extremely rewarding. People rewarding. Financially rewarding. I also developed a deep, very personal relationship with my Blackberry. We slept together, ate together… well… as far as I’m going to go with that one.

One of the things that kept me sane was taking up running again. Years earlier when we lived in Los Angeles I jogged a pretty easy route downtown, in the heart of homelessness, drug deals, and… Starbucks. It wasn’t hard training but it felt good.

So in DC I decided to start running again, partly to calm my nerves and partly to regain the svelteness I had lost in transition. That hump on my shoulders wasn’t balancing out my waistline, so I decided to do something to fix it.

At first I struggled to run even a few hundred yards.

Embarrassing, since it wasn’t completely new to me. Then I found a program that helped me get started and even helped me feel better about my slow pace. If you want to check it out it’s still online at About.com.

I even created an iTunes playlist of songs that helped me time my runs without looking at a watch (oh yeah – I used to wear a watch). I was determined to stick to it, even if the police found me doing a Fred Sanford a block away from home.

Weeks later I ran from my home in Thomas Circle through Georgetown, across the Key Bridge into Arlington and back – under 5 miles but a huge accomplishment for me and afterward one of my favorite routes the rest of our time in DC.

Today was no Georgetown

Ouch. It’s been a while. The hometown of Nike hasn’t even seen my old custom-designed training kicks on the street yet.

When I ventured forth into the rare sun this afternoon, I knew I would take it slow. But, man. I’m right about back where I started in DC.

I’m okay with this.

If you look at that program (even if you have no intention of ever moving faster than an airport walkway), you’ll see that it’s gradual. It’s no go-for-the-glory, win-at-all-costs method. The purpose is to not only train you to run longer over time, it’s to help you enjoy the process so you run consistently and not once a year after trying on your old dress pants (I don’t know who would ever do that… ahem).

There are lots of excuses for me leaving off running since living in Portland. Most of them have to do with not having time. I’m sure my friend Dave Navarro would have a few things to say about that.

As I was running today I realized that as crazy busy as I was with my old company, I made the time to take care of myself. I had to. Nobody was going to hand me a personal care plan with my company Blackberry.

Now I work for my own company and I actually can blame my employer for not taking care of me. We had a chat today and it was kind of uncomfortable, but good.

It’s time I start taking car

I’ve been paying close attention to my very brave friend Victoria Brouhard’s blog recently. She’s been opening up about the hard stuff. I admire her for it. It’s hard to be so honest about your business in such a public way. In fact, everything I’ve been taught from school through corporate life is, “Never let ‘em see you sweat.”

I’ve had a lot of failures since I opened the steam valve on the Firepants train. Check it out:

Becoming a Children’s Book Illustrator

My entire first year in business, I spent countless hours studying the industry, attending conferences, and learning how to build and present my portfolio before I realized an unexpected truth: I don’t want to illustrate trade books. In fact, the idea of working with an editor, trying to fit into someone else’s vision of what kind of art makes a book sell at Barnes & Noble is now about as abhorrent to me as letting my 2-year old drive the car. So I failed hard because I was constantly fighting this inner battle of trying to belong and not belonging.

Lesson: Do I still want to illustrate children’s books? Of course. I want to illustrate mine and to hell with the industry. I don’t need to sell a bazillion copies to feel good about my work. It would be cool, but it’s not my goal.

Digital Illustration School

My first attempt at launching a product. I had a great idea, a world-beater. Only, it was mostly my world. There was some interest and I’m still selling the vector illustration course, but it certainly did not become the Trust Agents of illustration tutorials. Stuff I did wrong:

• I launched the thing before I knew where the audience was and if they had a burning need for it (there was “kind of” a need, which isn’t enough).
• I wasn’t clear on the price. I shifted it around and kept lowering it because I thought that must be the problem. It wasn’t (see above).
• I had no way of promoting it outside of the initial launch, except just shouting. There was no reason for anyone to go back to the site if they didn’t need the vector course.

I’m still committed to the school, so I’m fixing the plane while it’s flying. I’ve had requests for a different course (Photoshop), so that’s in the works. I also created a blog with free tutes that expand on the vector course. I believe in that course, it’s completely awesome and a lot of fun. I just didn’t get the word out very well.

Lesson: I did a lot of things right. The product itself is awesome and I still feel great about it. I have experience launching a product and I know I can do it again.

Other Funtastic Failures

So many tiny ones that would probably bore you. Overspending and whatnot. Drinking coffee over my keyboard. But some I want to point out:

• Joining too many networking groups and trying to fit into them (lesson: if I have to fit in, I shouldn’t be there).
• Trying to be all things to all prospective clients. I took on a lot of projects that I shouldn’t have (lesson: if I have to fit in, I shouldn’t take the job).
• Sparky Ebook Cover Design. Cheap ebook covers. Excrutiating, because it’s just not in me to do quick and dirty. (lesson: if I have to dumb down my service, I shouldn’t create the product).

Rainbows and unicorns were waiting for me when I left my job

Um, right. It’s kind of sad, but I read a lot of blogs, comments, and tweets about how people can’t wait to give T

The hardest part about working on The Most Amazing Projects Ever is that you can’t share the work until it launches. But your noggin is swelling, close to bursting even, because it can barely contain the nuclear blast happening inside.

Sometimes those projects are other people’s stuff, so even if you decided to leak a bit of your work it wouldn’t be fair – or sometimes legal.

What can I say? It’s no secret that I love the work I do. I can get pretty annoying about it, actually. I’ll do something like post a video of The Captain & Tennille, which is like eating Skittles and Coke at the same time. Sweet and yummy, but you can only handle so much. Yeah, I’m aware.

But that’s what being inside the magical land of I Love My Work is like sometimes.

Take Pam Slim and Charlie Gilkey’s Lift Off Retreat. They asked if I would create an illustration for some retreat materials and I said, “Hell, no. I am way too busy. Try elance.com.”

Right.

I had been kicking myself because the retreat was perfect for me, but I already had commitments in Portland. So if I couldn’t go, at least I could contribute. Hell, yes. Once I accepted the mission, a few problems arose:

1. They told me what they needed and then let me “run with it.”
2. I had way more fun working on this design than people should be allowed.
3. I couldn’t show it off until after the retreat.

Alright, so only 3 was an actual problem, and only because of 1 & 2. Dream clients, they were. Free rein. Read about our retreat, do something cool. So I did:

I hear there’s another Lift Off retreat happening in August. I also hear that this last one was an experience to be treasured. So. August. Calendar. Reserved.

So what’s next?

So much stuff. I’m working on another Highlights High Five illustration… that I can’t show you. I created a header illustration with a magical creature and a real creature that you will have to see to understand. But you’ll understand and you’ll probably squirt Coke & Skittles out your nose. But I can’t show you.

Then there’s the ultra fantastic semi-custom web site help project that Tzaddi and I have been cooking up. She showed me the site this past weekend. If I was a little girl, I would have squealed. But I am not a little girl, I am a Very Strong Heterosexual Male, so I did not squeal. Not that you could hear, anyway. Stop looking at me.

And… I can’t show that to you, either. But my nuclear noggin is bursting. I want to, badly. Soon. In fact, if you’re at sxsw, you could probably twist Tzaddi’s arm to tell you about it. If you’re even slightly thinking that you need a web site, it’s going to be amazingly useful.

This is the first real team project I’ve been involved with over the past few years and I can tell you I picked a winner. I suspected that Tzaddi had some skillz, but I’ve been blown away by the work she’s done. When we combined our super powers, it was like Bam! Pow! Awesome! It’s one hell of a package.

Like I said, I can’t show you yet (after all that bam-pow-awesome stuff, I know, I know). I’m not sure exactly how or when I’m going to let people know when we o

Small business, blah blah.

Design, blah. Blah blah. Design good. blah.

Logos and branding blah. Do this. Blah blah. Think about your people… blah.

SXSW. Blahgity blah blah. Not going…because x, y, z, blah.

Who’s doing what blah. Products. blah. Teleclass, blah.

Think different, blah. blauthenticity.

Tuesday morning. Puddles. Wet. Cold. Happy.

In the past few years, there’s been a spate of corporate rebranding and logo revising. Pizza Hut (oops, The Hut), KFC (what does that stand for again?), and Pepsi (does the new logo make it taste better?).

My twitter pal @myklroventine pointed out this article today about Caribou Coffee’s branding makeover. Here’s a quote from the article:

“We wanted a visual signal that Caribou is alive and well,” said Alfredo Martel, senior vice president of marketing for the Brooklyn Park company. “We’re saying life is short, seize the day.” And do it with Caribou Coffee.

Martel called the latest Caribou marketing attempt “a two-way conversation with the customer.”

The Cup that Talks Back to You

It seems that one of their new Branding Strategies is using new cups that have messages on them. Last time I checked, a two-way conversation involved at least two people. Not one person and a cup with jazzy little sayings on it. I don’t care how much coffee you’ve had, if you’re bonding with the cardboard sleeve, it’s time for counseling.

The Little Logo That Could

That new logo. Oh, it’s cool. It’s nicely designed and uber hip.It’s a coffee bean. Get it? A coffee bean in the shape of a leaping caribou. Not like our old logo, which was a caribou leaping.

Does the management at Caribou honestly think that updating the logo and revitalizing their store and cup designs will solve that pesky little customer shortage problem? It sounds more like a pacifier for investors than an attempt at creating a great experience for the people who buy coffee.

Why Customers are Buying Your Coffee and not the Other Guy’s

(Hint: it’s not your logo)

I used to love Caribou Coffee. Not that I don’t anymore, it’s just that aren’t any Caribou stores in the Pacific Northwest (now there’s some irony for you). When we lived in D.C., Caribou was my preferred coffee shop. Here’s a few reasons why:

1. I liked the coffee. Surprise!
2. I liked the people there. They knew me. More important, they interacted in a conversational way that wasn’t scripted – even before they knew me.
3. They had a trivia question on a board every day. Answer it and get a discount on your coffee. Even more than saving a few cents, I loved the trivia. First, I’m a geek. Second, it prompted conversations with other strangers in line that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Instead of a line full of hurried grumps, they had a line of people to distracted to think about how long it was taking. Not every person, to be sure, but most.

Do you see “great logo” on that list? No, and I’m a designer for cryin’ out loud.

Small Business Owners Take Note

(but not on a Caribou napkin, because it’s pre-covered with “messages.”)

While you’re agonizing over your branding strategy and your logo design, consider that those things are not your business. They’re the face of your business, but they’re not going to save you from poor sales.

A logo and branding strategy that’s designed to reach the people you intend is important. Yes. It’s not easy to get that right and it’s worth investing in help.

First things first: create (or revamp) the experience, service, and value you want people to receive. Your true fans (the people who understand the value of what you’re offering) aren’t going to be swayed in either direction by a trendy new logo.

So to Caribou, I would s

So you’ve started a small business. Yay! Now that you’re in the (shh!) secret club, these things will soon arrive at your doorstep:

1. A stack of books by Seth Godin
2. A special pass allowing you free business-class upgrades on every airline
3. A sackful of money to develop a brand that will put your business on a level with Apple.

If you’re like me, you spent the sackful of money on Apple products. So it’s back to square one on that pesky branding thing.

When the sackful of money doesn’t arrive right away

If you’re like most new business owners (or, ahem… me), you do the fun stuff first and save the tax stuff for later. So, the fun stuff: a web site, twitter account, facebook fan page, logo, business cards, and custom pens to give away. Right. As long as we’re not pretending otherwise here.

Since you don’t have a sackful of money on day one, creating your brand or even getting a logo designed can be daunting. It’s a big expense. Working with a professional designer or branding pro is well worth the investment and if you can swing it, that’s the route you should go.

But let’s pretend that me saying that’s what you should do doesn’t mean you can suddenly afford it. There’s still that missing sack.

I’m going to tell you about something that seems counter to everything I’ve ever said on this blog about getting cheap design. It’s called 99 Designs.

99 Designs is a web site where you can pick out an image from a vast catalog and get a logo created, lickety-split, for the obvious price of $99. It’s almost painless and certainly fast. It’s at least a tenth of the price of working with a designer.

In the past I’ve warned people (in strongly-worded rants) to stay far away from these kinds of services. So why have I changed my stance? Simple, really.

I started to think about this logo design process from the perspective of a shiny new (micro) business owner. Wow, imagine that.

From what I see, it’s incredibly tough. Aside from those free Seth Godin books at your door, there’s no information that just comes to you about how to do all this stuff. So if you can’t afford a designer, the only choice seems to be to do nothing (or incur the wrath of elitist designers like me).

Okay, so there’s not doing nothing. There’s doing it yourself. I’ve recommended in the past (and I still think this is a good idea) that if you can’t afford a logo, just type your business name in a common, legible font and sit tight until you build some capital.

But $99.00 to get something decent that will make your business cards look a step above something you created with your printer’s design software? Man, that’s tempting. And could be a really great deal for you.

So get a $99 logo but consider this first

Here’s the thing about these off-the-rack logos. They’re not tailored for you and the people you serve. You’re not creating a brand. You’re decorating. Is that okay with you? Maybe you don’t need to think Branding with your tiny felt monster biz on etsy. It’s way more important to just get moving and create your cool felt dudes than get mired in branding strategies.

Listen, if you have a landscaping business you can go pick out a tree image and let the $99 Designs people pair it with a nice font and lay it out. Boom, landscaping logo. You’re not going to do any harm. You are not evil. You’re smart. You would be stupid not to take advantage of this deal in your early days.

However, when you need to get across who you are to your right people instead of just any ol’ shmoe looking for the cheapest landscaper, you’ll need to wor

I taped this note to my monitor this morning:

Seems kinda lame that I would need to remind myself to do great work.

It’s easy for me to write myself stickies and create Google calendar alarms for stuff like “Taxes,” “Book flight to NYC,” or even client deadlines.

Am I really going to forget to do those? Unlikely.

The thing I should be more concerned about is remembering to create the kind of work that matters. I get so buried in the day-to-day details of running a business that sometimes I forget to work on those great things I set out to do early on.

Oh, look – here’s some great work now…

Tzaddi Gordon and I are teaming up to create some great work. Tzaddi runs ThriveWire, where she creates “kick-ass, grown-up web sites YOU can update.” I love that and I was thrilled when we figured out a way to do something awesome together.

We’re still in development so I don’t want to spill the entire can of beans yet, but we’ll be offering a semi-custom WordPress web site package. Every day that we work on it, things get clearer and, well, awesomer.

Collaborating on this work of art has been a great experience for me. Tzaddi and I are very different in our approaches to solving problems and creating ideas, which is just perfect. If we thought about everything the same, the point of collaboration would be lost.

See, Tzaddi is fantastic at culling our project notes into easily-accessible docs that we share on Google. I have a very strange way of drawing my notes in a sketchbook that’s too big to scan. It turns out we need both methods (and two heads) to get this done.

Doing great work is why I started this circus in the first place. Creating it with really smart, creative people is a bonus.

Stay tuned. Tzaddi and I will be letting people in on our work of art very soon. Stay tuned here, at ThriveWire, or follow us on Twitter: sparkyfirepants tzaddi

You know what’s better than perfect? Passion.

Push all the right buttons, follow the formulas, apply the stuff you learned in that teleclass. Who cares?

Nobody. Nobody will care if you don’t put all your passion into your thing.

Does it look weird to be so passionate? Do some people have trouble with that? Oh yeah. Who cares?

I dare you to watch this performance and not feel energized. It doesn’t matter if it’s not your favorite song. Watch the fantastic amount of passion that Toni Tennille puts into this performance.

Almost every time I connect with someone new, they ask me, “How did you come up with a name like ‘Sparky Firepants?’” Sometimes I even hear, “Wow. I wish I had thought of that.”

You know what? Sometimes I wish I hadn’t used it. It’s actually very personal, but I’ll get to that.

I enjoy the fact that the name of my business makes people smile or laugh (even if they’re laughing at me). It’s fun. It’s a conversation starter. It’s a way for people to approach me, already feeling like I might just be a friendly guy (I am). It’s also fun at the the bank when the manager shouts out, “Heyyyy! Sparky Firepants!”

It’s a bit of celebrity and that’s fun. I’ll take it, thanks. I won’t pretend I’m on a higher plane where that doesn’t feel good.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t thought of it because it sounds so easy. Here’s the imagined formula:

1. Come up with a goofy name.

2. Get on Twitter

3. Open mailbox, take out check for $1 million.

Sparky Firepants was never just a name

Here’s how it happened. One day I was sitting in my office at my j-o-b, thinking about what I wanted to do that I wasn’t what I was already doing. I was trying to remember what that thing was when I was 6 years old that I felt so strongly I should be doing for the world.

By 37 I had accomplished some pretty cool things, but few of them had really changed the world in the way I imagined. Cool stuff to point to, but just that. Cool. Some of the things were just about survival.

On that day in my office, I decided that it was about time I go do the thing I was meant to do. I didn’t have a clearly written spreadsheet of all the little tasks I would need to complete to get there. I knew that to even start I needed to go back to thinking like the kid who wanted to make huge world changes.

I knew who this kid was. In his head he was Sparky Firepants. So there.

It could be anything

It’s not about the name and I think deep down people know that. Naming my business something goofy doesn’t make amazing things happen. It could be Broccoli Cornflower. Fred Smith, Inc. Doesn’t matter. It’s different, but just being different is not enough.

If it was just about a funky name, it sure would be a lot easier.

It’s not easy. This is hard. It’s work. Hard work. Rewarding work, but hard.

Being Sparky Firepants only gets me so far. I still have to get up in the morning ready to do more tiny, almost invisible things that eventually add up to changing the way things work on this planet. I have to be ready to not be rewarded at the end of every day with applause and flowers. I have to understand that the people I really want to work with are looking for real help, not just a silly name to associate with. That means sometimes I have to say no, even if saying yes means I can buy my plane ticket early.

Excuse me while I barf: authentic

So tired of hearing that word. Authentic.

But dammit, it’s true. You can create a business around a persona, but it’s going to run out of gas (hot air?) before long. It’s not about being an internet personality or squeezing a brand into every nook and cranny you inhabit.

You didn’t come up with “Sparky Firepants” because Sparky Firepants isn’t just some dorky name I thunk up when I was drunk. It’s me. Do you get that?

So there’s nothing in a name. When it’s just a name.

And I’m still figuring out how to accomplish what that 6-year old had in mind. It was pretty lofty. I have to get back to work.

See that kid in the photo? This is my son. He’s two.

What do you notice about his face? Is it maybe unbridled enthusiasm and joy for the thing he’s doing?

Of course it is.

This is the quality you need to have about your thing to create great images for it. Nothing less.

The best people I’ve worked with, the best work I’ve done were possible because of this level of enthusiasm.

If it’s not there, it’s not fun. It doesn’t turn out well. It’s not worth doing.

And I won’t.

Remember when Buzz Lightyear found out he was just a toy and not really a space hero? A sad moment.

Google Buzz is sort of like that. Google has built itself up in its mind (it really is just one entity) to be a space hero when really it’s a lot of toys. Some really cool toys (cooler than Woody Microsoft), but still… toys.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my Google toys. In fact,  I just set up a Google Apps account this week so I can actually work in the cloud instead of just being there in my head. I pretend that it’s about productivity, but let’s face it; toy.

Any time a new Thing comes out, I try to think about how I can use it in my life or my business before I dismiss it out of hand. Okay, so first I mentally lick the shiny logo and then I try to think about usefulness.

So I licked my screen and did some thinkin’ about Buzz.

Too many toys

Here’s the inherent problem with any new toy that hits the internet: if I start thinking about the fact that I have to open yet another tab in Firefox or switch to a new app on my iPhone, they’re already losing me. If I just jump in without thinking because it looks super useful or really cool, then opening tabs and switching apps is no big deal.

I was waiting for my family in the car a few nights ago and I decided to check out Google Buzz on my iPhone. The first thing I noticed was that I couldn’t use it with my new Google Apps account, which is where I’m now hanging out. I have to use my old Google account where I use that Wave toy. So before I even figure out what it does, they’re losing me.

But I check it out anyway. It looks like Twitter, sort of. I buzzed (?) something stupid like, “Figuring out Buzz.” Genius.

Looks like I can bring in my contacts from Gmail, but the UX Hero nailed it on this one. No obvious privacy rules.

Long ago it really bugged me when I noticed that my old landlord could see when I was online in Gmail. We didn’t chat, but it creeped me out anyway.

I didn’t spend much time on Buzz, I admit. I use Twitter. Why do I want a new Twitter-like thing? It’s the same reason I don’t hang out on Facebook much. I just adopted Twitter and that’s where I hang out. Supposedly Buzz integrates with Twitter, but it’s kinda like how MegaBlocks work with LEGO. If I use LEGO, why would I switch to something that’s kind of like it?

In her post about Buzz (and snow), Laura Belgray said, “Can’t a person get comfortable for a while?” Exactly. What’s the rush to start a new Twitter-like thing?

So maybe I’m suffering from too many toys to appreciate the true potential of Google Buzz. But you know what? If I get a new toy, it better be something completely awesome and new. If it’s kind of like the toys I already have but I need to learn a new system to play with it, what’s the point?

Funny toy talk aside, how will this maintain or improve my personal relationships or the way I help my clients better than what I’m already using? Right now I don’t see it.

It’s not a laser. It’s a little light bulb that blinks.

Would you fall out of your chair if I said, “Yes?”

Strap yourself in, amigo.

Yes. You can be too creative.

Fine Art vs Commercial Art

That’s a terrible heading. It assumes that one is better than the other. Maybe I’ll fix it by the time I post this. Probably not.

To illustrate (heh) my point about being too creative, I want to show you a beautiful piece of art I saw online today by Leah Piken Kolidas. See it here.

It’s awesome, right? This is fine art. It’s creativity defined. Personally, I would never put a limit on creating with this kind of work. It communicates something from deep within the artist. The rest of us can decide what it means on a very personal level. Different interpretations don’t lessen the gorgeousness of this piece.

Commercial art is different. Commercial art is advertising, logos, signs. They are created to communicate something very specific. There isn’t supposed to be guesswork or interpretation involved. It’s created specifically to evoke the same set of emotions or instant understanding of a message to a wide group of people.

Too much creativity can kill the message.

Say you’re talking about savings. Close your eyes and think about an image that would represent that. What did you get?

You may have seen “piggy bank,” or “dollar sign,” or “bank vault.”

Did you see… lemon? No? Koala bear? Nope? How about… motorcycle?

Let’s think outside the box. Let’s get creative, people!

Oy. I almost threw up when I typed that.

It’s hard to come up with an image that communicates your message and not latch onto the first cliche image that strikes your consciousness. I do this every day, coming up with the easy cliche image. And then I think, no! You can’t do that, it’s too easy. Think of something better here. It needs to be more.

Be more… what? Creative?

The thing is, there’s a reason those cliches pop up in our little brains. The fact that they pop up in so many of our brains means something. Don’t fight it just for the sake of being more creative.

When you’re creating an ad about savings, you could get very creative and use an image of a three-legged cow looking in a mailbox. I’m sure there’s a story there, but if you have to explain the story to a mass audience, it’s lost its effectiveness.

So take “piggy bank” and be more creative within that framework. If it’s a retirement savings account, put a piggy bank on a Harley with another piggy bank in a sidecar. Piggy banks on a cruise ship.

That’s where you can get to have fun and flex your creative muscles. Just don’t throw the piggy out with the Harley.

See? Cliche. Updated.

So can you be too creative? Yes. Remember when you’re designing your logo or the street sign for your shop, the name of the game is easy communication. If you get too creative, you risk losing your audience.

So I writ this post yesterday, Why I’ll never say I’m booked.

One of the things I love about having this blog is that smart people come and talk to me. Check out the comments there.

I’ve also had some interesting comments in email and on Twitter about this post and the idea of saying you’re booked. There’s been some confusion about my message. This is, of course, my fault since I’m the one who wrote the damn thing and wasn’t clear enough.

Apparently it sounded a lot like I was saying that even when you’re busy, you should take on more work. It may have sounded like I was saying that even though I’m really busy, I can handle it and you can’t – you lame excuses for productivity, you.

Negatory, Good People. Nope-ity nope-ity no.

I get why you post “Booked” on your site. You’re full up. You’re swimming in work – which is completely awesome and I applaud your ability to create that situation for yourself (you’re doing something right).

I also get that the idea of taking on more projects and inserting a Monster Energy drink IV is not something you’re keen on doing. Me, neither. Taking on more work when you’re full to the brim is just insanity. It’s a dollar-chasing, panic-driven, I’ll-never-be-this-busy-again, plain ol’ life-damaging strategy.

Don’t. take. the. work.

Don’t take it. Turn down the work when you’re full. Push the plate away. Focus on the people who got in line first and deserve (paying for) your full attention.

The Acknowledgement Business

I don’t have a magic email or phone call strategy. I have some systems in place that work for me and I’m always improving them. Stuff falls through the cracks. I can’t get to everyone in 24 hours like I try to. I miss stuff, I screw it up.

But not everything begs a fully-developed answer in 24 hours. Sometimes people just want to inquire in a general way. The Facebook updates can wait.

Simple priorities.

But I’ve spent a lot of energy creating a space where people can contact me when they need my kind of help. My phone number is there. My email address, twitter handle… everything short of my Driver’s License number is on the site.

I want people reaching out. I want to hear about their projects. I want to know!

Can I create graphics for them all? No. Never. Simply not possible. It’s not always the right fit, or I’m slammed with other projects at the moment.

The point is, my figurative door is never locked. Not in a way that allows people to poke their head in when I’m illustrating and interrupt my flow. Unlocked in a way that allows me to acknowledge that they need help and I’m going to figure out how that can happen. Maybe they’ll be helped best by one of my designer friends who I trust to help them as well as or (gulp!) even better than I can.

I get it. Even that level of acknowledgment is difficult when you’re buried. So what do you do? You may need help weeding out the “Can you help me with my project?” requests from the “I love your work and just wanted to say hi” emails.

Not easy. Nope.

But I’m not in the business of graphics and animation. I’m in the business of communication and acknowledgment. Silly drawings and movies are only the vehicles. It could be anything – knitted caps, coaching, iPhone sleeves, tofu burgers, whatever.

You can’t always make more tofu burgers. I can’t always make more graphics. Sometimes we just can’t take on any more.

But we can acknowledge. To me, a person looking for some help, a sign that says “Booked solid” expresses, “I don’t have time for you. Go away.”

I’m writing this in the middle of crazy. Overflowing, messy desk. Full calendar, tax prepping, phone call at eleven, the baby just fell off his motorcycle, what-do-you-mean-the-washer-is-flooding-my-office… crazy.

So I’m really busy. Really really.

With all the new relationships I’ve made over the past few months, old relationships that are being refreshed, and partly due to my mid-January Special I’ve started off 2010 with an avalanche of new business. It’s the dream, right? When things are slow, I see posts on twitter about how busy someone else is and I have pangs of envy. Hey, can I be busy, too? How did they do that?

One thing I’ve seen a lot of lately is service providers who bill themselves as “booked.”

“Sorry, I’m booked.”

“Booked until August.”

“No inquiries, please. You should have hired me before I was internet famous. Now I can’t possibly help you.”

I’m helping a very large number of people right now. I’m slammed, my calendar is full this month. Yet I refuse to say “I’m booked.” You won’t get me to say it, even with Hershey bars and nylons. Last week a client called and asked if I was available. Staring down my calendar, without hesitation, I answered, “Of course. What do you need?”

Am I stupid? Insane? Is it that I just don’t care about work/life balance? Gee, maybe I’m not “doing it right.” Well, I’m definitely not worried about that, since I’m the one who decides how to do this anyway.

Sorry we’re closed!

Wouldn’t it suck if you went to your favorite coffee shop on a Tuesday morning and you found a locked door and a sign that said, “We’re sorry. See all these people in here enjoying hot beverages and free wi-fi? That’s about all we can manage for now. Please come back in March.”

There’s a jazz club in New York City called Smalls. They’re not kidding, either. It’s a tiny basement of a place. The first time I went, my friends and I waited in a line that stretched the whole block. Whenever someone left, the dude at the door let an equal number of people in.

I wondered what would happen if they just locked the door at capacity and said, “We’re full.” After a few nights of finding this sign, how many people would keep trying? Would they just find another jazz club? You can only trudge out in a cold drizzle so many nights before finding a place with jazz that maybe isn’t so great but is… open. And warm. With drinks.

Creating Demand

Ever heard that before? If a service provider says they’re booked, they’re creating scarcity and demand. Bully, but I still need help. I needed your particular brand of help. You know, the kind you’ve posted all the testimonials about and described in great detail, which sucked me up like a spider in a vacuum but… you’re booked.

I still need help.

I know you have twelve kids. I know your husband can’t do his own laundry, or your wife wants “hubby time” tonight. I know you’re internet famous and your email is just overflowing with love, appreciation, sex offers, and insults you have to try and ignore, but…

…wait. Why are you posting cute Elmo videos on twitter? I thought you were busy.

Anyway, the Elmo video was a hoot, but I still need help.

So you’ve created demand. Awesome. Now what? Do you just sit back on the couch and enjoy the demand? How does this work exactly? Do you earn 3.5% interest on all that demand? What are you doing with my demand? I demand to know.

Quantity vs Quality

Okay, I admit it. There are only 24 hours in a day in my universe, too. So I fit in as much work as I can, spend time with my family, fix the wash

I know. You come here for goofball rants and (sometimes) inspiration. That’s cool.

I can’t ignore the situation in Haiti and I feel strongly that I should say something here.

This is a country that’s had significant problems and needed outside help for years. One military coup following another, their first democratically-elected leader exiled in South Africa, and economic strife. It’s not like Haiti has been rolling along like a bullet train.

So why care now?

It’s funny, that’s much of the sentiment I’ve read on Twitter lately. Suddenly people care about Haiti? Another blogger jumping on the Haitian Relief bandwagon. That guy is just trying to make a quick buck.

Yeah, there’s some of that happening. It’s not the way I roll, but I’m also not going to point fingers or pretend that I thought much about Haiti before Tuesday.

The way I see it, no matter who it comes from or how they may profit from the situation, if relief cash gets to the organizations who need it right now, that’s what matters. I really don’t care if somebody sells their product as a vehicle to generate relief funds.

Right now it seems that there are people moving into the area to help. It looks like they’re even having trouble managing all the relief efforts converging on the island. From what it sounds like, what’s needed most is cash.

I suppose a more cynical view would be that all that cash goes to pay high salaries of the relief organizations’ CEOs and a private jet for Bill Clinton. A more cynical view would be to say that because we didn’t send money to Haiti before the earthquake, we’re hypocrites for caring now.

Over 100,000 people are presumed dead. Over 3 million people are in need of food, shelter, water, and medical care.

I don’t see where cynicism fits in there.

One way to help

My friend Mark Silver sent an e-mail today that mentioned Mercy Corps, which seems like a sensible, well-organized group that deserves support. Don’t go on my word, of course. Read about it yourself on Faith Danforth’s page and decide what you should do.

I spend a lot of time thinking about odd things, which sometimes is sufficient to get me blocked on something without any real reason – except that I thought about it too much.

Games, for example.

So I have this iPhone thingy. And I have a Mac thingy, plus an internet thingy. Sometimes I visit my Facebook thingy, but usually that’s just when I want to know what Cliff from third grade is having for dinner tonight.

Brisket. Mmmmboy. Maybe I’ll just shut up about the vegan thing for one night and comment because he has a handsome family who happens to enjoy beef. That’s nice.

If you’ve spent any time on Facebook (or Twitter), you’ve probably heard of Farmville and Mafia Wars. Ow, my head. Stop. No, really. If I hear once more about how much digital produce you’ve grown while on the phone with your boss, I’m gonna get seriously cranky. Er. Crankier.

Hey, I’m not above sin in the world of pointless games. As a young lad, my weekend existence consisted of stealing the change off my dad’s dresser so I could sneak across the road (“Don’t let me catch you crossing that road!”) and play hours of video games at 7-Eleven.

He did say don’t let me catch you – not don’t do it. Right?

When our family first plugged that Atari 2600 into the TV (we got cable the same year), I spent my waking hours in one of three places: School (thinking about TV), in front of the TV, and slightly left of the TV. I admit, there were times I was in the dining room craning my neck to see the TV, but mostly it was those three main locations.

When I got older, I started creating content for the TV, which took over my life, too – just in a more productive way. Suddenly at almost-forty, I find myself looking down upon video games from the lofty position of [Booming god-like voice] “I AM CREATORPANTS” instead of, “Dude, Fun. Check it out.”

Kind of sad. Kind of okay. Kind of hypocritical when you think about how much time I spend bent over my iPhone answering e-mails and having conversations at the Twitter bar.

So I don’t own a TV but I’m not immune to similar distractions. And, even though I place it all neatly under the category “Big Business Creatorpants,” it’s still just games.

Games.

Words. Words? Words.

When I saw Words with Friends mentions popping up in the Twitter bar (Havi’s term, and please read this post because it’s dead on), I groaned and shut it out (see Rantypants above). Another way to waste my time.

Sparky Crankypants says (in super-official Dad voice), “Games are a waste of time.”

Then the holidays came and I was consciously taking a break from work (well, sorta). We played Scrabble at home one night and I kind of missed getting my head into something that wasn’t The Business. So when I was lazing about (well, sorta) one night I tried it out. I got hooked immediately and still play a few games of Words just about every day.

So why this game and not Farmville or Mafia Wars or Pac-Man for the iPhone? I’ve never played Farmville, so how can I judge? I have no logical answer for this, except that most of the people I notice playing it really hate their jobs and spend most of Monday through Friday in apparent agony (TGIF!). I don’t blame them for feeling that way (I’m sure they’re justified in hating their jobs). I just don’t want to feel that again, so I’ve steered clear.

It’s possible that Farmville and Mafia Wars players have sound reasons for getting sucked into those worlds. I’m not a psychiatrist, I just think abou

Techniques are easy. Ideas are hard.

So you’re looking to get something created – a web site, a graphic, a bar chart for your presentation, whatever. If you search online, you’ll find scores of talented people who can produce professional work. They’ll probably use the latest techniques and all their skill to turn your concepts into a finished product.

Knowing this, how do you choose a designer out of the teeming masses?

You pick the one who can communicate ideas.

Techniques are easy. Ideas are hard. They’re also more valuable.

Tension. That nagging itch. The mental discomfort of someone invading your personal space. Even though I recognize that I’m hyper sensitive to my personal space boundaries, I’m sure you’ve felt this before.

Imagine you just sat down in an empty theater. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’ve got the place all to yourself. Just as the previews come up, someone comes into the theater and finds a place to sit – in your row, two seats away.

Are you as creeped out as I am?

I’m getting a little freaked out even as I write this. It’s not that the person smells bad or shakes their dandruff over my popcorn. It’s a feeling I just can’t put my finger on, but it’s there.

I also have a magnet that attracts people on empty buses. It doesn’t matter if I choose a spot surrounded by 20 empty seats; the intoxicated, mentally deranged, and loud cell phone talkers take their place very near my lap.

In the world of design, I call this visual discomfort.

There’s a design principle called visual tension, which can be used to heighten drama or direct the flow of energy in a layout, but I’m talking about something a little different. Visual discomfort is that thing in a design that gives you a nagging itch that something is wrong, even if you can’t name it.

Let’s compare some very basic examples:

While this is a fairly boring design, there’s nothing inherently wrong with it.

It’s very similar to a sign design I did long ago. After seeing the design proof, the client asked that I “fill” the space on the sign. He wanted the letters to be as large as possible so it could be seen from the street. It was perfectly reasonable that he would want the biggest letters possible.

However, we were limited to the dimensions on the light box that housed the sign. If we increase the size of the letters, we get this:

How does that feel to you? Are you feeling some discomfort looking at this? It just doesn’t feel right, does it? Two people sat down a little too close on the bus. For this client, the answer isn’t “increase the size of the letters,” rather it’s, “get a bigger sign.”

Here’s an example of another uncomfortable sign design that I see too often (click on these to see them bigger):

Well, we’ve certainly used the space, haven’t we? Got our money’s worth on real estate you might say. Let’s take a another look:

First of all, I hate putting things in ovals (which is a personal preference, not a design princ

I switch out my iPhone wallpaper every week. It’s a compulsive disorder, closely related to my collection of canvas shoes.

It’s kinda weird that I haven’t created any artwork to decorate my phone, don’t you think? It’s about time.

As I plan my diabolical schemes grand initiatives for 2010, I got a little jump start on this one. That’s how excited I am about all the tremendous offerings I’m putting into the world this coming year. I can’t wait to share them.

So I proudly present Sparkyphone wallpaper.

More will be added to the collection throughout the year. It’s a fantastic outlet for me and a great way for you to get artwork you can actually use. They’re all free, no strings, no sign-ups, no B.S.

Please send your friends. Wallpapers for the world!

Have you ever had a bad experience with a creative freelancer?

You know, the kind that makes you blow the dust off your Photoshop 3 CDs or pick up a copy of Web Sites for Dummies?

Maybe you needed some web design done, or a brochure laid out, a paragraph of copy written, or even some illustration. You were excited about the project but either the result blew chunks or just working with the person was hell. Maybe you spent a lot of money on something you can’t use.

Whatever it was, I’ll bet it made you want to kick something really hard. Or scream. Or eat a gallon of Soy Dream all by yourself, huddled in a dark corner.

For this post, I’m going to stop myself from spewing forth wisdom and just listen to you. I would really like to hear about your experiences hiring and working with creative people. What went wrong? Why do you think it turned out badly? How was the situation left (or resolved)?

I invite you to tell your story in the comments. If you’d like to use a pseudonym, go for it.

The only rules I have about this are:

1. Do NOT mention the name of the person or company. We’re not out to bash anyone here. No public lashings.
2. I can’t think of any other rules. Except to repeat rule number 1.

I will not censor comments unless they’re off-topic or mention names. This is your chance to vent. I want to hear.