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Every business owner wants to have a successful business where they get to do what they love without the fear that they’ll have to close up shop and go back to a job they hate, right? For the purposes of this discussion, success = freedom and flexibility. And joy, don’t forget joy!
But how do we get there? How do we make sure we’re building something that will succeed?Â
I don’t believe there’s any single blueprint or how-to manual, but there IS one thing I’ve discovered from my own experience that I feel significantly contributes to a successful AND personally fulfilling business (they don’t always go hand-in-hand, even though they should.)
I know the word gets thrown around a lot these days all willy nilly like, so let me be specific. An authentic brand is one that communicates the WHOLE of who you are or who your business is. One that speaks to your contradictions, your personality and – most importantly – your true values.
The more of yourself, your personality, your values –Â those intangible and complex things that makes you who you are –Â the more of THAT STUFF that you can bake that into your business, the better.
Why, you ask? Well, here are just a handful of good reasons:
When you declare your values, you attract the people you want to attract and you repel those that would be a nightmare for you. Right there on the About page of my website, I communicate clearly and directly what I care about:
If any of those things don’t make sense to someone or if they get scared off, perfect. They won’t ask me to design their brands and it saves me the risk of possibly working with someone that I don’t jive with.
I can genuinely say that the more I stick to these values and the more I consistently communicate them in everything I put out (including these emails), the more I get emails and project inquiries from people I would consider my dream clients. (And more quality project leads means more stable profit for my business, so that’s a very great thing.)
“Driving away clients and customers that will dim your light should be equally as important to you as attracting your dream clients and customers.”
If you’re wasting time on people that don’t get you, it will drain your energy and that will negatively affect every aspect of your business.
If you have your own business, as I mentioned, your goals are likely two-fold: 1) financial stability and 2) flexibility with your time. I can say confidently that after one year of being in business and clawing my way through the dark, I finally have a strong semblance of both.
But how did I do it? I did it by finding all of you guys. People whose values are aligned with mine. Positive, self-made, driven, creative people. If you signed up for this list it means something I was doing spoke to you. It resonated.
And that’s because I made sure that I had a clear vision of who I was and who I wanted to serve.
To further illustrate how authenticity is the root of a successful business, here’s a handy dandy diagram I drew up (don’t worry, we do diagrams differently around here… it’s a flower!)
The takeaway?
“If you want a flourishing, thriving business – one that allows you to bloom at your fullest potential as well – then root it in authenticity.”
Here’s what’s hilarious about marketing: everyone is always trying to spy on everyone else’s paper, see what’s popular or what the best practices are for product launches, website strategy, copy-writing… literally everything. (And, listen, I get it, it can be tempting to try and “hack” the system by learning from those that have come before you.)
But the funny part is that, in doing so, you blend in with the rest of the herd. But on the other hand, the more you play to who you are and ignore “convention” or marketing to the middle-of-the-road masses, the more you in fact become marketable because you stand out. You become memorable.
A quick aside about this: when I was working on the branding for Made Vibrant way back last January, I intentionally baked in all the things that felt uniquely me: bright colors, lots of black and white, hand drawn elements, big, bold type.
But all the successful, popular blogs and sites I saw were minimal with tons of white space, muted colors, and airy, ethereal photos.
I freaked out. Are people going to stumble on my site and think I’m crazy? Am I doing this wrong?
But you know what, why did the Wall Street Journal reach out to me when they came across one of my blog posts? Why did Hilary Rushford, a busy lady with a successful business in her own right, agree to let me interview her for my self-made guide? BOTH mentioned that my brand and website made an impression on them and that’s why they wanted to speak to me. I spoke clearly to who I was and what I was about and that stands out.
That is what I want for you to remember.
“Draw strength from your individuality. Let your authenticity be your anchor in this crazy world of entrepreneurship and marketing.”
Don’t be afraid to take a stand on who you are, because I’m telling you, THAT is what will guide you to a business that feels fulfilling and true to your soul.
This week your challenge is to write down five words that encompass the AUTHENTICITY of you or your business.Â
This exercise is one that I do with all my branding clients so that we can discover five tone words that will guide the visual style of their brand. When you’re making decisions in your business, you’ll be able to look at these five tone words and use them as your filter, your guidepost, your North Star.
For example, the Made Vibrant brand is supposed to be approachable, vibrant, empowering, creative and soulful. (Not every brand element has to include elements of all five, but hopefully the full experience of the brand encompasses all five.)
I won’t share all five of last week’s coaching clients, but to give you more of an idea, some of their words included: graceful, free-spirited, quirky, and energetic.
Let’s encourage each other to be who we are, and let’s build some kick-ass business while we’re at it. What’dya say?
When it comes to thinking creatively for business and brainstorming ideas, most people believe you have to be wired a certain way or use a certain side of your brain. I disagree.
I believe the more naturally creative you are, the harder time you have focusing on the business side of things (marketing, promotion, sales, etc).
But fear not. Regardless of your level of inherent creativity I’ve developed an exercise that, without fail, produces creative thoughts. This same exercise helped me create IWearYourShirt.com, a business that from 2009-2013 generated over $1,000,000 in revenue. It also helped me create BuyMyLastName and SponsorMyBook, two businesses that both brought in six-figure income.
This exercise doesn’t limit itself to simply creating a new business idea, it’s also incredibly useful for coming up with content ideas, strategies, marketing plans, a client pitch, ways to attract mainstream media, and more.
I call it No Bad Ideas Brainstorming. You’ve probably tried doing brainstorming before. Whether you work for yourself or a company, perhaps you’ve yet to attack a brainstorming session under the simple premise that “no idea is a bad idea.”
You’ll need at least one other person with you, and preferably in the same place. Skype/GoToMeeting can work, but it’s not optimal.
Like a child’s board game, this exercise is most effective with two to eight players. I’d also recommend having people from different backgrounds (or positions in your company) participate. You want different styles of thinking working together.
Ringing phones, pop-up notifications, SnapChat alerts, music, etc, are all a distraction and will impede the creative process. This is why I think it’s absolutely optimal to do this exercise in person. It’s also good to be a in a quiet place. That’s why libraries still exist, after all.
This is very important: do not take notes electronically. Use a whiteboard (preferred), large notepad, or a bunch of pieces of paper.
The note-taker should participate, but should also write down 100 percent of the ideas submitted by the group (remember: there are no bad ideas).
Are you looking to create a new business? Are you looking to come up with marketing ideas for your existing product or service? Are you trying to create a content calendar and need ideas for social media updates and blog posts? Maybe your company needs a new name?
Whatever it is, each brainstorming session should only have one focus.
I like 90 minutes for my brainstorming sessions. The first 45 minutes are spent just throwing tons of ideas out there and the second 45 minutes are spent honing those ideas.
No idea is criticized or given negative feedback. The importance of not giving negative feedback or criticizing any idea is that it keeps creative momentum going. You’ll find yourself hearing a bad idea, but instead of commenting on how it was bad, it sparks a much better idea.
It may sound weird, but I like to get up and move around before the brainstorming session starts. It much easier to come from a mental state of movement and energetic feelings than it is from sitting staring at a bright screen.
Do 10 jumping jacks. Do a couple pushups. Go for a short walk outside right before you start (without technology).
The No Bad Ideas Brainstorming exercise works extremely well, but you must make sure to ignore your urge to offer criticism and negative feedback. Our brain is incredibly powerful at building momentum, especially as it relates to creative thought. But as soon as we let negativity creep in those thought processes come to a screeching halt.
The first time you do this exercise it might not end with wild success (much like the first time you tried to ride a bicycle). The key is to keep trying the exercise. The better you get at keeping negative thoughts at bay, the more efficient you’ll be at coming up with creative ideas.
What took me so long, you ask?
Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the business card game these days has gotten a little out of control.
I mean, between my trip a few years ago to Alt Summit (the ultimate business card beauty pageant) and my access to Pinterest with all its “Top 10 Business Card Design” pins, I was having major anxiety about how to make my own cards stand out from the pack.
After months of changing my mind about what I wanted, finally I was forced to make a decision because Jason and I are in Fargo, ND attending Misfit Con for the next five days and I needed cards to include in the swag bags.
Finally faced with a need to make a decision, I remembered something important about business cards though: they’re fleeting.
Let’s be honest with ourselves. We hand them out or gather them up and we pretty much forget about them after that UNLESS the person we meet has made a true impression on us.
And yes, while you could certainly argue that a business card that transforms into a tiny 3-dimensional bunny rabbit makes an impression, I would also argue that the flash factor has to be met with substance or it won’t be worth more than a few momentary ooohs and ahhhhs.
I think the point of a business card should be pretty simple: to be a lasting extension of a first meeting. It’s less about the card really, and more about the impression made when handing out the card. Your business card is just your ticket to continuing a conversation with someone beyond your initial encounter.
Once I finally looked at it like a simple conversation-extender, it took a bit of the pressure off to make it the most unique and awe-inspiring card ever. As long as I created something that’s a reflection of who I am and what I do, that’s good enough for me.
Then the question of course became, what info should I include on the card itself?!
After a bit of pondering, here’s what I came up with. The top three most important things to include on a business card, in my opinion:
Sure, it’s a no-brainer, but it has to be said. I would argue that your name is the most important thing on your card. Going the minimal route by only putting your business name may be tempting if you’re looking for that little bit of mystery, but I think if you don’t leave someone with a written reminder of who you are, the chances of that meeting turning into a great opportunity are pretty slim because the person may not remember who they’re reaching out to!
If your business card is a chance to extend your first meeting, again you don’t want someone confused about what it is that you do. This is why you want to offer some context for your business or role or line of work. On my cards, I included just a small line below my name reading “designer, illustrator + happiness hunter.” I purposefully added that last part as an additional point of context. I don’t just do design but I write and care about individual happiness and fulfillment. Even though I’ve left some of that “mystery factor,” someone isn’t going to look at my card and wonder “Huh, what in the world does she do?”
If you have a title that is on the more broad or vague side (ie. VP or Head of Sales or Owner), it’s probably a good idea to include additional context like a descriptive tagline to make it clear what industry you’re in.
Okay, here’s where I think people go a little bit bananas. Don’t feel pressure to include every single contact point under the sun. You don’t need your cell and your fax number and your Linkedin account and your Pinterest profile and your Skype handle for someone to get a hold of you. If you don’t answer client calls often, don’t leave your phone number. If you’re not active on social media, don’t include your social media handles. There are no requirements here. Just do what makes sense for you.
Again, I’ve seen people at the other end of the spectrum who go the ultra-minimal route just putting their website as a contact point. That could be sufficient if you’re a blogger just trying to get some name recognition or intrigue new readers. But what happens if you run into someone interested in sponsoring your blog? Or if you’re a client-based business and you meet a potential client? The last thing you want is someone who’s interested in working with you having to go through loops and hoops, hunting to find your email address on your website.
Make it easy for people to connect with you and just include your email on the card. That seems to be the preferred method of contact these days anyway. (Snapchat being a close second, of course, right?)
These were the three rules I tried to stick to for my own cards, but thanks to some swanky technology, I was able to include two additional points that I think are a huge BONUS if you can find a way to fit them in.
If your job is in a visual field and your work can be captured in a tangible way – ie. art, photography, design, architecture, etc. – then it’s definitely a huge plus if you can find a way to represent that on your card. Since so much of my work revolves around hand-lettering, I thought it would be cool to make the backs of my cards a couple of my favorite hand-lettered art pieces from my Instagram account.
I give credit to my friend TEKSTartist for giving me this idea. He introduced me to Moo.com’s innovative “Printfinity” technology. Moo allows you to upload at least 50 unique images for the back of your cards, which is a great way of basically including a portfolio piece with every card you give out. (I also love that I didn’t have to choose just one of my brand colors for the back but I got to include every single one!)
[If you’re interested in using Moo, use this referral link to get 10% off your first order. I’m very happy with the quality of the cards so I recommend them!]
I’m a big believer in the power of Why in business, and while showing your work and including all the right info is important, I think it’s even better if you can share with people a little bit about WHY you do what you do. That’s why I chose to include one of my favorite quotes on my cards, one that acts as a sort of guiding mantra for Made Vibrant. It’s a window into what I think makes me stand out from other designers, what makes me unique. If you can find a way to include something like that on your card, I think you stand a huge chance of continuing that conversation like I mentioned earlier.
Of course, there is another alternative entirely. You could ignore this entire post and just go with my better half Jason’s philosophy on why he doesn’t carry business cards: “If someone I meet wants to follow-up badly enough, I’m not that hard to find online. They’ll get in touch.”
I think I’ll stick with my strategy for now, but what about you? What do you think makes a good business card? Do you think they’re an antiquated business practice or are they still useful?
Let me know in the comments or share a link to some of your favorite/most effective business card designs!
And now, I’m off to Fargo! Catch you guys later!
I’ve been to my fair share of conferences and seen my fair share of public speakers, but I had never experienced anything like watching James White on stage. When I saw James speak at ConvergeFL in 2013 I honestly think he had 200 slides in his presentation. And I could have seen an additional 200 and still wanted more.
If you aren’t familiar with James, he runs a design and illustration studio called Signalnoise. James is best known for his “1980’s Metal Rock” design style, but his talent doesn’t stop there. He currently has a fantastically-awesome illustration series called StarKade that features professional wrestlers and other prominent characters from the 80’s. I’ve shared some of his work in the image above, but I highly recommend checking out Signalnoise.com and giving him a follow on Twitter or Instagram! You do NOT need to be a designer to enjoy this interview or James’ speaking presentation, trust me…
Places you can find James online: Signalnoise.com – Instagram – Twitter
I’m a graphic design and visual artist from Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, Canada. In short, I’ve been drawing my whole life which evolved into a career in design and illustration which I’ve been doing for the last 15 years. When I’m not working on client gigs, I’m working on my own fun stuff in an attempt to guide my future toward the kind of work I enjoy. I’m passionate about my childhood, for the most part. I’m still into all the nerdy stuff I loved as a kid in the 1980s, so I try to infuse that child-like enthusiasm into the work I do today. Gotta make it fun, man.
Thanks man! Getting onstage and telling my story is probably the funnest part of my job these days. I can’t really remember a time when I was nervous onstage. When I was a kid I was one of the best singers in the class, so I was always picked for solos, plays, recitals and whatever else. So being in front of a crowd is something I got used to when I was really young. I guess that plays into today when I can get onstage in front of 3000 people and talk about Photoshop. I truly love doing it and have a lot of fun.
The only tip I really have for aspiring public speakers is to speak in your own voice. What I mean is don’t try to use a vocabulary outside of how you normally speak, or try to memorize stuff that isn’t natural. If you’re getting up in front of people to talk, you should already know your topics inside and out. When you talk casually, the way you normally sound, it resonates with the audience and levels the playing field.
Great question. I’d want to play someone adventurous, tough, smart… always in over their head, always gets the girl and always wears a leather jacket. So naturally, I’d have to pick Indiana Jones.
I wouldn’t want to be Dutch (Arnold Schwarzenegger) in PREDATOR. All his buddies get killed by a monster. How crappy would that be?
It might sound cliche or whatever, but our time is short. We really don’t have time to be scared of making and putting our work out there. The biggest fear is somehow failing, but if we have fun creating our own work how could that ever be considered a failure? Because it didn’t get very many “likes” on Facebook? Who cares? After something is posted you should have already moved onto making a new thing anyway.
I share new work all the time because it ultimately ends up steering the kind of work I do for clients. When someone goes to my website and sees my fun personal work and says “I’d like you to do that kind of thing for me. Here’s some money.”, that’s a huge victory because I get to keep doing something I enjoy. My personal work has built my professional reality and I never want that to stop.
There are a LOT of sharing platforms out there, but I always advise to pick only a few where you can connect with the audience you want to connect with. Personally, I use Twitter, Instagram and Facebook to spread the word and also post to my blog to keep everything at a central hub. Those platforms allow me to quickly and easily reach my audience, and they can easily reach me.
You grow a thick skin pretty fast. But there are 2 types of negative feedback you can get… those who give feedback and those who say “you suck”. People who step forward to give feedback are absolutely wonderful. Maybe try this colour, maybe the font should be smaller… that kind of stuff can shed new light on the piece and allow me to reconsider some decisions. I love that. The “you suck” people are just random jackholes who only want to jam a stick in your spokes. Those guys are easy to ignore and tend to skulk away when they can’t get a reply.
I still get both kinds of comments, but I can remember the first time someone wrote some horrible words about me and my work. It nearly ruined my weekend and my friends Chris and Sameen were there to help me out. I’d never experienced an attack before, so the first time kind of stings. But over time you grow to just roll your eyes and shake it off.
My biggest failure was my inability to break into the movie poster scene. I love designing movie posters and wanted to somehow make that my job. I dedicated a year of my time to making a bunch of posters to pump up my portfolio, but the whole thing imploded and I gave up out of frustration. If you’re an independent artist and not strapped to a big movie studio, or have access to licensing people (who actually return your calls), or work with someone like Mondo… you’re kind of left out in the cold.
I had almost landed a commission to do an alternative movie poster for SPRING BREAKERS, my first big crack at an official poster, but when the deal fell apart I was disgusted and threw in the towel. Hollywood is a big weirdo.
Ha! Well, other than the items that got marked off onstage, the list was 100% bullcrap. But if you are friends with any of the Ninja Turtles, I’d love an introduction!
I would never tell kids to not go to school in order to study their craft. If anything, school sets of boundaries and introduces students to the tools and techniques they will need to get a footing in the industry. Sure, we can learn it on our own, but I genuinely believe that school speeds up that into process. But I DO know that some schools are better than others. Just because a school costs a ton to go to, doesn’t mean they’re necessarily better than the cheaper ones.
I witnessed both sides. Fresh out of high school in 1995 I attended a community college for 3 years. 1 year of graphic design and 2 years of something called Interactive Tech (learned how to make websites). The whole venture cost about $7000, but it got me what I needed to get a solid foot in the door and landed a job at a website design company immediately. After 5 years in the industry I decided to attend an art school to study fine art (painting and stuff). 1 year later (and another $8000) I dropped out. Despite being a “reputable, big, fancy art school”, they were just NOT as good as the community college.
In short, if you’re going to attend school for art or design… do your research on the place and talk to people who went there. Make sure you’re heading to the right place.
I’m one of those creative who aren’t very good at the business side. My agent helps out a lot with the invoicing, paying, and client liaison, but on my end I try to be as organized as I can… while still falling short when I get busy. I do the best I can to keep things smooth.
Never stop making stuff. The more stuff you make, the better you get. It’s that simple. We live in a world of “instant gratification” where we can find anything we want all the time, but achieving our personal creative goals won’t happen overnight. It’s a decision to dedicate yourself to honing your craft. You need to love what you do… and put the peddle to the metal.
I already have the ROBOCOP movie I love. That new thing looks like something else.
For sketching I use generic black hardcover sketchbooks. For idea generating, my trusty Field Notes.
When I was a kid, my family always ordered from a little place called Pizza Express in my hometown. Best pizza. Sadly, the place isn’t around anymore.
Iron Maiden! And my name would be something like Duke Lightning.
Sketch, re-sketch, vector sketch, colour experiment, build final in Photoshop, have a beer.
Currently sporting a Frankenstein shirt designed by my buddy Eric Miller of the Dartmouth Clothing Company.
No thanks.
MORE FUCKING LIGHTNING.
An island with a kickass WIFI connection. Preferably owned by Adobe.
Don’t forget to rock.
I don’t know about you, but I’m amped up to create some stuff after this interview! I love the way James looks at posting his work on social media. He’s not concerned with how many Likes it gets, he doesn’t try to optimize anything, he just wants to do work he loves and share it with the world. Take a look at James’ upcoming speaking schedule and I’d highly recommend attending an event so you can see him in-person, it is absolutely worth whatever the event registration price may be.
If you’d like a little more James White in your life (and who wouldn’t?), listen to him and previous Creativity Unleashed interviewee Chuck Anderson chat on Chuck’s Life and Limb podcast.
This interview is part of a series that was done in 2014Â called Creativity Unleashed. I had the pleasure of meeting Joshua Fields Millburn at Misfit Conf in Fargo, ND in 2013. I didn’t know of Joshua or TheMinimalists.com before that event. It’s safe to say that his talk had a huge impact on me and has changed the way I talk to people and think about “stuff” in my life. I carry his motto “Does this add value to my life?” with so many things I’m doing nowadays.
Places you can find Joshua online: TheMinimalists.com — Instagram — Twitter
Colin Wright, Joshua Fields Millburn, and Ryan Nicodemus (the three handsome amigos!)
A great question. Thank you positing it this way, Jason.
Me? I’m a simple man.
I’m most passionate about writing—especially literary fiction, although I’m best known for my essays at TheMinimalists.com, where my best friend Ryan Nicodemus and I write about living meaningfully with less stuff. I like to think of my writing as one part David Foster Wallace, one part Christopher Wallace, and one part William Wallace.
I’m also passionate about indie publishing. I’ve published six books, including my bestselling novel As a Decade Fades, plus a forthcoming memoir, Everything That Remains.
Alongside our author friend Colin Wright, Ryan and I founded Asymmetrical Press, a publishing house for the indie at heart. We’re not a traditional publishing house, though. Rather, using asymmetrical techniques, we aim to improve the quality of independently published work. Much like great indie films, and great indie bands, I see a need for more great indie authors. The age of the authorpreneur is right around the corner.
It’s a dangerous question. Unfortunately, it is often the first thing we ask strangers: What do you do? On the surface, it seems like a fairly innocent question, a servile four-word nicety we utter so we have something—anything!— to talk about.
But let’s face it, the majority of the answers are boring, soundbiteish ripostes we have standing by at the ready, prepped for the next dinner party or networking event: I am a director of operations. I am a regional manager. I am the senior vice president of who gives a shit. Whoop-de-doo. Good for you.
Truth be told, we regurgitate these canned answers because they’re easy to repeat, trance-like and semi-conscious, over and over and over again. No one wants to talk about their boring day job ad nauseam, but it sure is easy to state your name, rank, and serial number; it’s easy to prove that you’re a cog in the wheel or a rung on the ladder—just like everyone else. It’s much harder, however, to talk about other, more important aspects of life. So, instead of finding more meaningful discussions, we go about our days providing lifeless answers to this lifeless question, our collective discs set on repeat.
But think about this question for a moment. In reality, it’s such a broad, salient question that any answer would suffice. What do I do? I do a lot of things: I drink water. I eat food. I write words sloppily onto little yellow legal pads. Once you scrape away its cheap gold-plating, however, you’ll find a series of pernicious inquisitions lurking beneath the surface.
Sadly, what we’re actually asking when we posit this question is: How do you earn a paycheck? How much money do you make? What is your socioeconomic status? And based on that status, where do I fall on the socioeconomic ladder compared to you? Am I a rung above you? Below you? How should I judge you? Are you worth my time?
There is a better way to answer this query, though: by changing the question altogether—as you brilliantly did at the onset of this interview.
Hence, the next time someone asks you what you do, try this: Don’t give them your job title. Instead, tell them what you’re passionate about, and then change course by asking them what they are passionate about:
I practiced this exercise during my last year in the corporate world. It helped me remove the importance of my job title from my life and ultimately opened me up to discussing my passion for writing with others (which eventually allowed me to walk away from my six-figure corporate career). Sure, I had an impressive job title, but it didn’t make me happy; it didn’t fulfill me. And now I’m more fulfilled by pursuing my dream than by any title.
Think of this shift as changing a noun into a verb. Instead of giving people a title (i.e., a box to put you in), let them know what you enjoy doing—what you’re passionate about—and then discover what they enjoy, as well. The conversation will morph into something far more interesting, and you’ll learn a lot more about each other than your silly little job titles.
Baby steps.
I think there are three ways you can jettison the superfluous possessions in your life:
First, you can do what I did and take baby steps. Start small with one room and then gain momentum. Ask yourself, “Does this item add value to my life.” Then do that over and over and over again—with everything you own. Constantly. Habitually.
Nowadays, I don’t own many things. But everything I own adds value to my life. Each of my belongings—my kitchenware, furniture, clothes, car—functions either as a tool or gives some sort of positive aesthetic value to my life. That is, as a minimalist, every possession serves a purpose and/or brings me joy.
Over time, though, situations’ll change. They always do. And so I’m forced to ask the same important question over and over and over again: Does this thing add value to my life?
But it’s not just material possessions at which I posit this query. I ask it, too, in regard to relationships, social media, and any other potentially superfluous matters in life. I constantly ask this question because circumstances constantly change. Just because something adds value to my life today, that doesn’t mean it’ll necessarily add value to my life tomorrow. So I keep asking, and I adjust accordingly.
Or, the second option: you can venue down to the extreme end of the spectrum: rent a dumpster, throw all your stuff in it, and move on with you life. Truthfully, this is the best solution, but it’s not possible for most people—not emotionally anyway. I certainly couldn’t’ve done it; I was too emotionally tied to my sentimental items, so I took it slowly instead, constantly questioning everything until that questioning became habitual. But if you can do it—if you can just throw out (or donate) all you stuff—then just do it. Move on. I’ve never, ever missed anything I’ve parted with.
Then, of course, there’s the third path: the middle-of-the-road approach, which the path my best friend Ryan (the other half of The Minimalist) took…
After my newfound happiness was apparent—a happiness I attributed largely to getting the excess crap out of the way so I could focus on what’s important—he too decided to give this minimalism thing a shot. But he didn’t want to spend months slowly parring down his possessions like I did; he wanted immediate results. So, being the problem-solving guy that he is, he decided to throw a party —a Packing Party. I of course volunteered to help.
We decided to pack all his belongings as if he were moving, and then he’d unpack only the items I needed over the next three weeks. I helped him box up everything: clothes, kitchenware, towels, electronics, TVs, framed photographs and paintings, toiletries, even his furniture. Everything. We literally pretended he was moving.
After nine hours and two pizza deliveries, everything was packed, and there we were sitting in his second living room, feeling exhausted, staring at boxes stacked halfway to his twelve-foot ceiling. His condo was empty and everything smelled like cardboard. Everything he owned—every single thing he’d worked for over the past decade—was there in that room. Boxes stacked on top of boxes stacked on top of boxes. Each box was labeled so he’d know where to go when he needed a particular item. Labels like LIVINGROOM, JUNK DRAWER #1, KITCHEN UTENSILS, BEDROOM CLOSET, JUNK DRAWER #4. So forth and so on.
Ryan spent the next 21 days unpacking only the items he needed. His toothbrush. His bed and bedsheets. Clothes for work. The furniture he actually used. Kitchenware. A tool set. Just the things that added value to his life. After three weeks, 80% of his stuff was still sitting there in those boxes. Just sitting there. Unaccessed. We looked at those boxes and couldn’t even remember what was in most of them. All those things that were supposed to make Ryan happy weren’t doing their job.
So he donated and sold everything in those boxes. Like me, he got everything out of the way so he could focus on everything that remains.
Regarding debt, I had a boss who once said to me, “The quickest way to give yourself a pay raise is to spend less money.” I agree with that sentiment.
I’m 32 years old, and this year, for the first time in my adult life, I am free of debt. That’s a weird thing for me to be able say, because, you see, from the time I was 18—when Chase Bank granted me my first line of credit, a MasterCard with a $5,000 limit, which would’ve made any poor kid from Ohio salivate—until earlier this year, nearly 14 years later, I’ve had some sort of debt. As my twenties mounted, so did my tab with the creditors.
First it was just that one credit card, and then, when that one was maxed out, it was two. And then three. Visa, MasterCard, even Discover (American Express wasn’t irresponsible enough to grant me a line of credit, not for several years at least).
But that’s OK, I was “successful,” so I could afford it, right? Fresh out of highschool, I skipped the whole college route and had instead found a sales job that “let” me work six, sometimes seven, days a week, 10–12 hours a day. I wasn’t great at it, but I learned how to get better. By age 19 I was making $50,000 a year. But I was spending $65k. Unfortunately, I was never great at math. Perhaps I should’ve financed a calculator before maxing out half-a-dozen cards.
I celebrated my first big promotion at age 22 the same way I imagined anyone would: I built a house in the suburbs, financed with 0% down. Everything in my culture reaffirmed this decision, even told me I was making a solid investment (this was five years before the housing crash). It wasn’t just any old house, though; it was an oversized, two-story monstrosity, complete with three bedrooms, two livingrooms, and a full-size basement (the ping-pong table I never used came later, also financed). There was even a white picket fence. I shit you not.
Soon after building the house, I got married to a wonderful woman. But I was so hyper-focused on my supposedly impressive career that I hardly remember the ceremony. I know it rained that day, and that my bride was beautiful, and I remember fleeing to Mexico for our (financed) honeymoon after the wedding, but I can’t recall much else. When we returned, I got back to work, filling our two-car garage with luxury cars and our new home with fancy furniture and appliances, stacking debt on top of more debt in the process. I was on the fast track toward the American Dream, just a few years ahead of my contemporaries, who were all spending likewise, albeit five-or-so years later, in their late twenties. But I was ahead of the curve, an exception, right?
At 28, a decade into my accumulation, I was forced to looked around at all the stuff surrounding me. It was everywhere. My house was full of things I’d purchased in an attempt to find happiness. Each item had brought with it a twinge of excitement at the check-out line, but the thrill always waned shortly after each purchase, and by the time the credit-card statements arrived, I was overwhelmed with guilt, a strange kind of buyer’s remorse. And so I’d do it all over again, soaking in the suds of consumption—lather, rinse, repeat—in search of something that resembled happiness, an elusive concept that got farther and farther away the more I chased it.
Eventually, happiness was just a speck on the horizon, way off in the distance.
Turns out that I’d been running as fast as I could in the wrong direction. Oops. The stuff wasn’t doing its job; it wasn’t making me happy. In fact, the opposite was true: instead of happiness, I was faced with stress and discontent and anxiety. And massive, crippling debt. And, eventually, depression. I no longer had time for a life outside of work, often laboring 70–80 a week just to pay for the stuff that wasn’t making me happy. I didn’t have time for anything I wanted to do: no time to write, no time to read, no time to relax, no time for my closest relationships. I didn’t even have time to have a cup of coffee with a friend, to listen to their stories. I realized that I didn’t control my time, and thus I didn’t control my own life. It was a shocking realization.
What I did with that revelation, however, is much more important than the revelation itself. Faced with epiphany, I turned around and started walking—not running—in the right direction. I spent two years living under new spending standards, what I refer to as my Ramen Noodles Meal Plan, slashing all my nonessential wants and likes along the way: I sold the big house (at a significant post-crash loss) and moved into a small apartment; I paid off my car and kept driving it without considering a new one; I cut up the credit cards and started paying for everything with cash; and I bought only the things I needed. Ultimately, I discovered that I truly needed far less than I thought I did. For the first time in my life, I could see happiness getting closer and closer as I walked away from the stuff I thought would make me happy and toward real happiness. My friends and family started noticing my changed demeanor, too. Over time, life was calmer, less stressed, simpler.
I spent time paying off debt, incrementally, month by month, bill by bill, getting rid of everything superfluous so I could be less tied to my income, less tied to a job that ate up all my time. I didn’t simply jump up and quit my job, though. That would’ve been stupid. Instead, it was a long road. It took two laser-focused years to eliminate 80% of my debt, and after I left my career as I approached age 30, I took a sizable pay cut, but I still focused on paying down the debt, spending two years slapping around that remaining 20%, never losing sight of the freedom that hid behind it.
We are all familiar with the age-old hypothetical situation in which our home is burning and we must grab only the things that’re most important to us. Of course most of us would not dash into the inferno and reach for material things first; we’d ensure the safety of our loved ones and pets. Then, once they were safe, we’d grab only the irreplaceable things—say, photo albums, computer hard drives, family heirlooms. Everything else would be lost in the conflagration.
I tend to look at this situation a tad differently, though, taking the hypothetical a bit further…
There is a scene in Heat in which Neil McCauley (Robert De Niro) says, “Allow nothing in your life that you cannot walk out on in 30 seconds flat.” Although my life isn’t anything like McCauley’s (he’s the movie’s bad guy), I share his sentiment. That is, almost everything I bring into my life—material possessions, ideas, habits, and even relationships—I must be able to walk away from at a moment’s notice.
Many people with me because this ideology might sound crass or insensitive, but I’d like to posit that it is actually the opposite: our preparedness to walk away is the ultimate form of caring.
If I purchase new possessions, I need to make certain I don’t assign them too much meaning. Being able to walk away means I won’t ever get too attached to my belongings. And being unattached to stuff makes our lives
tremendously flexible—filled with opportunity.
If I take on a new idea or habit, I do so because it has the potential to add value to my life. New ideas shape the future Me. Same goes for new habits. But over time, my ideas change, improve, expand; and my current habits get replaced by new habits that continue to help me grow. Hence, our readiness to walk away from ideas or habits means we’re willing to grow—we’re willing to constantly pursue a better version of ourselves.
If I bring a new relationship into my world, I know I must earn their love and respect and kindness. I also expect that they too are willing to walk away should I not provide the support and understanding they require. This means we must both work hard to contribute to the relationship. We must communicate and remain cognizant of each other’s needs. And above all, we must care. These fundaments—love, understanding, caring, communication—build trust, which builds stronger relationships in the long run. It sounds paradoxical, but our willingness to walk away actually strengthens our bond with others. Plus the opposite stance—being chained by obligation to a relationship—is disingenuous, a false loyalty birthed from pious placation.
There are obvious exceptions to this rule. There are certain things we cannot easily walk away from: a marriage, a business partnership, a job that pays the rent, a passion. The key, then, is to have as few exceptions as possible.
Naturally, though, even these exceptions aren’t exceptions for everyone.
Marriages often end (mine did after six years). So do businesses. People get laid off, and passions change over time. So even though we might not be able to walk away from these things in “30 seconds flat,” we can ultimately walk away when these situations no longer add value to our lives (or worse, when they drain value from our lives).
When all is said and done, everything I allow into my life enters it deliberately. If my home was aflame, there’s nothing I own that can’t be replaced. All my photos are scanned. All my important files are backed up. And all my stuff has no real meaning. Similarly, I’m prepared to walk away from nearly anything—even my website or teaching or writing—if need be. Doing so safeguards my continued growth and improves my relationships with others, both of which contribute to a fulfilling life, a life of meaning.
It was C.S. Lewis who, fifty years ago, eloquently said, “Don’t let your happiness depend on something you may lose.” In today’s material world, a world of fear- fueled clinging, his words seem more relevant than ever. It’s OK to let go; we needn’t hold on to things just in case.
Something I refer to as “public masturbation.”
Before I dropped out of college I came across a ridiculous hand-written sign hanging in a dorm bathroom. In big bold letters it said, “Please masturbate in your own rooms!”
It seemed funny at the time, but doesn’t this sign seem appropriate for today’s masturbatory Internet culture? Many of us get so caught up in displaying ourselves online that we are willing to do just about anything to get attention.
These days, it seems like the quick fix is the new black. It’s in style. Everyone wants it: the overnight success, the secret formula, the magic pill. We all want to Go Viral.
But have we stopped at any point and asked ourselves why? Is there a reason why we try to create the viral video, why we want to write the over-shared blog post, why we need our tweet retweeted 1,000 times?
Everyone is striving for their 15 minutes of fame. Everyone is attempting to aggregate as many eyeballs as possible in their direction. We have moved past the Information Age and stumbled face-first into the Overcommunication Era.
Once upon a time we all wanted to be liked; now we just want to be “Liked.” It all seems dangerously narcissistic, an entire generation vying for everyone’s most precious resource: our attention.
There is, however, an alternative. Instead of Going Viral, I like to focus on one thing: Adding Value. These two words regularly pop their beautiful little heads into my daily conversations. Habitually, before every book I write, every blog post, even every tweet, I ask myself, Am I Adding Value?
I think the education system isn’t broken; it’s just outdated. It worked well during the Industrial Revolution, but it works poorly for today’s creative people.
We enter this world as creators, curious to discover ways to express ourselves visually, auditorily, kinesthetically. But, over time, we are taught to be more “realistic,” to be “safe” and “reasonable” and “normal.” When, in truth, we never wanted to be safe or reasonable. Maybe we wanted to be normal, but today’s normality template is far from what most of us had in mind at age five.
Growing up, we all just wanted to be ourselves. That was normal. But soon, we were placed in a classroom, told to stand in line and speak when spoken to, and prescribed ADHD medication if we got out of line. This methodology worked great for creating factory workers and farmers, which seemed ideal when 90% of the population was either the former or the latter.
Today, however, most people are neither factory workers nor farmers (and even those positions have changed radically in the past few decades), and yet we’re all graced with the assembly-line mentality, systematically programmed for compliance, expected to adhere to external standards while disregarding whatever our own internal normal was.
During this process, our creativity is quashed and replaced with a vast emptiness —a desire to create, even though we’re told that we’re not creative. It’s no coincidence that we start focusing more on consuming around the same time, looking for any(material)thing to fill the void.
“All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” Picasso had this observation a century ago, and, unfortunately, these words ring even truer in today’s postindustrial world, a world where our vocations no longer ape the form of pseudo-creation (a la farming and factorying), and thus the gap between creation and consumption widens as we attempt to buy what no one can possibly sell: individual creativity.
The strange thing about this antiquated system is that most of its gatekeepers— government officials, school administrators, and teachers—aren’t operating out of malice. If anything, their reaction is birthed from apathy or comfort (or both). Many teachers, in fact, are just as disenchanted with the whole mess as we are, though they often feel like just another faceless cog in the wheel, powerless amongst the tyranny of bureaucracy.
Thankfully, there are alternatives. For children, there’re home schooling and unschooling and wonderful programs like 826 Valencia. And for adults, the options are endless; there are books and blogs and classes and conferences. Plus there are scores of people like me—people who’ve rejected the system and aligned their lives with their values and beliefs—who function not as teachers, but as unteachers, helping people unlearn the bullshit they’ve acquired over the years, so that they too can become unteachers and help further the spread of creativity and ideas.
Most of the time you can circumvent the system. I know first-hand. Even without a college degree, I teach an online writing class. Even without a college degree, I climbed the corporate ladder and managed 150 retail stores by age 27. Even without a college degree, I’ve spoken at Harvard Business School and the University of Montana and dozens of other places I’m not “qualified” to speak (I even have an office at the University of Montana’s start-up incubator). That’s not to say that some routes don’t require traditional learning—you and I wouldn’t do business with a DIY surgeon or dentist—but even those folks can benefit from the new forms of learning. Even traditionalists benefit when they embrace the above-mentioned alternatives.
Of course, none of these alternatives are easy per se, but then again it is way too easy to stand in line, to raise a hand when we want to speak, to blindly follow authority, to capitulate, and, above all, to comply. Fuck that.
The best thing about my dietary lifestyle is that I never get sick anymore. Never. Not even after hugging thousands of people during our last book tour. (And I’m willing to bet that I won’t get sick during our upcoming 100-city book tour either.)
You see, a few years ago, I used to be a meat-’n’-potatoes kind of guy. And consequently I used to catch a cold several times a year; even when I wasn’t sick, I didn’t feel great. To be honest, I felt like shit most of the time. I used to weigh 70 or 80 pounds more than I weigh now, I had stomach problems, and I was tired and sluggish and I lacked the energy necessary to live an active, fulfilling life.
Today, my diet is markedly different, and I’ve never felt more alive. I no longer have issues with energy or focus. And most important, I feel better. My stomach problems are gone, the excess weight is gone, I no longer get sick, and the spring is back in my step, as it were. And this is why…
Food. My diet today consists mostly of plants and unprocessed foods. I eat an abundance of vegetables and fruits. I’m particularly fond of avocados, spinach, broccoli, anything green—not because they taste good, but because these foods makes me feel outstanding. I also consume rice at most meals, and I eat fish and nuts several times a week. My ideal meal looks something like this: a bowl containing a small portion of rice, half an avocado, a diced tomato, a piece of grilled salmon, a handful of almonds, and a massive spinach-carrot-cucumber side salad with almond oil and lemon.
Avoid. There are quite a few foods I’ve drastically reduced—or completely eliminated—from my diet: bread, pasta, sugar, gluten, meat (other than fish), bottom-feeding seafood (lobster, crab, and other garbagemen of the sea), most dairy products, and anything processed or packaged. There are many so-called experts out there—I am not one of them—but it was my friend common sense who advised me to avoid most of these foods. Think about it: besides humans, do you know of any animals who drink another mammal’s breast milk? What other animal eats bread or pasta or candy bars? Our bodies are not meant to consume this junk (one can make a good argument for eating meat, but I know that I feel much better without it, and feeling better is my true barometer). But how do I get enough protein, calcium, iron? Well, how does the world’s strongest primate, the gorilla, consume enough of these nutrients? Gorillas eat vegetables and fruit—leaves and bananas (many green vegetables are comprised of 20– 45% protein). And you likely need less protein than you think.
Intermittent Fasting. I eat two meals a day (generally no snacks besides liquids), both consumed within an eight-hour window, usually around 11 a.m. and 6:30 p.m. I fast during the day’s remaining 16 hours (i.e., 7 p.m. to 11 a.m.), consuming only water, herbal tea, or black coffee during those times. This is much easier than you think. If you want to lose weight, particularly fat, then intermittent fasting will make a drastic difference in your life. And yes, this means I skip breakfast. (Here’s some science behind why we should skip morning breakfast.)
Water, Liquids, and Juice. I drink roughly half my bodyweight in ounces of water each day. I weight 165-ish pounds (I used to weigh 240 pounds), so I drink 80–90 ounces of water a day. I’m also fond of drinking 1–2 powdered green drinks every day for increased vitality. Additionally, I own a masticating juicer that’s great for juicing fresh vegetables and fruits, directly supplying my body with the nutrients I need. I also drink coffee, albeit appreciably less than I used to, as well as herbal tea and almond milk, but I eliminated cola and all sugary liquids from my diet (including fruit juices, which contain shockingly high amounts of sugar).
Exercise. I exercise every day, but I don’t spend a ton of time or effort or focus on it. Instead, I do only two things: 1) I walk five-to-ten miles a day, allowing me plenty of time to think and breathe and de-stress as I meander the streets of Dayton, Ohio, or Missoula, Montana (where I’m from and where I currently live, respectively), and 2) I workout for 18 minutes a day, alternating between various bodyweight exercises (pushups, pullups, squats). I’m not worried about building vanity muscles; I’m concerned with how I feel. I’ve discovered that when I eat and exercise in ways that help me feel good, lean muscles are a nice bonus. You don’t have to kill yourself to become fit.
Sleep. Because of diet and exercise, I need less sleep than I used to. Most mornings I wake around 3:30 a.m., after five or six hours of sleep. Some days, however, I sleep later, until 7 or 8 a.m. I let my body dictate how much sleep I need, which happens to be far less sleep than just a couple years ago.
Stress. You don’t get stressed, you do stressed. If I were to ask you what a stressed person looks like, you’d easily be able to mimic his or her physiology. When we start to feel stressed, we do certain things with our bodies: frowning, shallow breathing, muscle tensing, etc. Once you become aware of your stressed physiological state, you can change your physiology—the way you move your body—to become unstressed. Sure, nearly everyone feels stressed these days, but I am significantly less stressed than I’ve ever been, because I make an effort to be aware of my triggers and change my physical movements accordingly. When I feel overwhelmed, I’ll change my breathing pattern, I’ll take a walk, I’ll exercise, I’ll look in the mirror with a big grin, or I’ll make sure no one’s looking and I’ll jump up and down like a crazy person—anything to get me out of that stressed state. (N.B. these techniques also effectively combat depression, anger, and sadness, too.)
Most important, after changing my diet and embracing a healthier lifestyle, I feel amazing.
Perhaps you think my diet sounds boring. Well, I don’t think so, but then again I no longer look at food as entertainment. Food is fuel, nothing more. I can still enjoy a great conversation over a healthy meal with friends; I simply don’t need to let the food be my source of entertainment. I enjoy the food I eat—very much so—but I enjoy the rest of my life, too.
Does that mean my exact diet will also work for everyone? Yes, most likely. But maybe not. People ask me about this all the time, and I always say, There’s only one way to know for sure: test it out. You can emulate my diet for 10 days and see how it makes you feel, see what aspects work for you. Or try any one aspect for 10 days: go without meat or bread or processed foods, add green drink or fresh juice or daily exercise, and notice the changes. I’m certain you can do anything for 10 days. See how those changes make you feel, adjust accordingly.
Entrepreneur or no, Improving one’s health is the foundation of living a meaningful life. Without your health, nothing else matters. Truth be told, I don’t care what you eat or how you exercise; I’m not looking to convert anyone to my way of eating. I don’t care if you’re a vegetarian or a vegan or a primal-paleo- whatever. None of these labels apply to my own dietary lifestyle, and arguing the particulars is silly anyway. What I do care about is how you feel. I want you to feel great so you can better enjoy your life and contribute beyond yourself.
Oh, and never getting sick sure is a nice bonus.
People have all sorts of clever words to describe what they want to do in the future: Objectives. Targets. Plans. Endgame. Outcomes. Goals.
I used to be The Goal Guy when I was in the corporate world. I had financial goals, health goals, sales goals, vacation goals, even consumer-purchase goals (I wish I was kidding). I had spreadsheets of goals, precisely tracking and measuring and readjusting my plans accordingly.
These days, life is different, and I no longer have goals. Instead of an arbitrary target, I prefer to have a direction in which I travel. If you’re searching for a sunrise, it’s important to be headed east; for a sunset, west.
I do, however, believe there was a time in my life when goals were direly important: when I was in a hole and needed to get out. In all honesty, most of my goals were irrelevant (e.g., purchasing and accumulation goals), but a few of my goals helped immensely (e.g., getting out of debt and losing 70-80 pounds).
I liken these latter goals to escaping a crater in the middle of the desert. When I was fat and up to my eyeballs in debt, lingering in that bowl-shaped cavity beneath the ground, my goal was to break free from the sun-scorched basin and find the earth’s surface. You see, I couldn’t even fathom a direction from down there; I simply needed to get out of the hole. And my goals helped me do that. (N.B. I don’t want to give too much credit to the goals, though, since it was actually my consistent actions over time that got me out of those fat/debt craters, not the goals themselves.)
Once I found the surface, though, I no longer needed goals. I simply needed to look around and pick a direction in which I wanted to travel. There were mountains to the west, flat planes to the east, sand dunes to the south, and whispering-pine forests to the north, all blanketed by the complete sum of endless blue heavens above. If I wanted to be on the mountain, I’d need to travel west. If I wanted to get lost in the forest, I’d head north. And so on.
It was Lao Tzu who said, “A Good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.” I obviously agree.
The nice thing about choosing a direction is that you never know what you’re going to get. You might head west in search of the mountains on the horizon, but along the way find a beautiful river instead. Or you might traverse the sand dunes only to find a village a few miles from the crater behind you. Suffice it to say, you never know what’s around the bend.
Once I got out of my craters, I didn’t need goals to enjoy my life. My daily habits help me do that.
I discovered that sometimes it’s OK to wander in the direction of your choice. And if you get lost, so what. I mean, really, would that be so bad? Once you’re out of the crater, you simply need to stay out of other craters. You can always change your direction if you’re unhappy.
I’m 32 now. My entire life is different from my 27-year-old self’s life. Radically different. But I don’t imagine that my 37-year-old self will be as different. Sure, he will have grown significantly, he will have learned and contributed and stumbled from time to time, but he’ll’ve been out of those craters, headed in his direction of choice, just enjoying the scenery.
I’m honestly shocked that I come across as confident or poised.
Risk scares the bejesus out of me. It does the same for most people. Many of us associate risk with failure, failure with pain. Yet we’re told we have to take plenty of risks to succeed. Thus, success must be painful, right? Not necessarily…
When it comes to challenging our preconceived notions about risk, the common platitudinal question that gets tossed around by kindhearted friends and self-help gurus is, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
Truth be told, some risks are fairly benign: getting rid of most of your material possessions, asking a cute guy or girl for his or her phone number, writing the first page of the book you’ve always wanted to write. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Likely, nothing at all. There is no real risk in these innocuous endeavors.
Other risks, however, probably should scare the shit out of you: skydiving, purchasing a home, quitting your job. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Umm, some pretty awful shit actually: death, debt, and poverty, respectively.
Although that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take these risks; it means you should approach each risk with logic, reason, and intuition. Peer over the edge before taking your proverbial leap, and if it makes sense, then leap. Because not leaping can be a much bigger risk.
The difference, then, between the benign risks and the real risks, is that the latter possesses potentially life-altering worst-case consequences, while the former poses virtually no threat at all.
But, when you think about it, the benign risks can also hold life-altering consequences if you change the question: What is the best—not the worst, but the best—thing that could happen? Perhaps getting rid of your excess stuff will free up time and money and space and give you some much needed peace of mind. Perhaps that phone number will lead to a fulfilling relationship. Perhaps writing that first page will lead to a second and then a third and so on until you’re staring at a bestseller. Any of these outcomes would likely change your life for the better.
Similarly, the real risks can have tremendous upsides. Jumping from a plane could be the most exhilarating experience of your life, the first time you’ve truly felt alive. A new home might be ideal for your family, a place in which you enjoy meaningful experiences, an investment. Walking away from your career could be the catalyst toward starting your own business or a life of growth and contribution (it certainly was for me).
That doesn’t mean you should undertake any of these risks, either. It just means that maybe we ought to ask these two questions more frequently. After all, what’s the worst/best thing that could happen if we did?
I don’t spend a ton of time online; I don’t have Internet at home (which was the most productive thing I’ve ever done in terms of writing, as well as just living more intentionally). Nor do I own a television. Not because I think TV is bad or evil, but because I’d watch it. A lot. When I used to have a TV, it would just sort of stay on like a fireplace, creating a false sense of warmth. There’s a Zen apothegm that seems apropos here: “Let go or get dragged.”
Music and literature are the two art forms that inspire me most. Both mediums provide an exchange of consciousness that can’t be found anywhere else.
I’m a huge fan of singer-songwriters (q.v. my novel was about a troubled singer- songwriter), as well as literary fiction (e.g., Jonathan Franzen, Dave Eggers, John Barth, et al.). I really enjoyed Adelle Waldman’s most recent novel, Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.; she seemed to be able to walk through the mind of a thirty-something male better than most male writers.
Maine, which I’m finally going to visit next year during our tour.
Tedious but rewarding: eighty percent of my time I want to put my head through a wall, but the other twenty percent is the best—or maybe second best—feeling in the world.
A t-shirt I no longer enjoyed wearing.
A table and chairs for my dining room.
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace, although I know only two other people who have actually finished this 1,079 tome.
Ras Kass.
My one pair of jeans, a blue oxford, and a thermal undershirt (it’s cold in Montana).
Adequate citation source.
I have a strange process: notes by hand, laptop for the first draft, second draft by hand, and then third, forth, fifth (etc.) drafts on the laptop again.
You can’t change the people around, but you can change the people around you.
Where do I start?
Every paragraph seems to have something useful or helpful. The things that really stick out to me are figuring out what you really want in life and what brings you value. Not just the stuff you purchase, but your job, the people around you, etc. I also really enjoy Joshua’s outlook on setting goals.
I feel like we’ve gotten to this point where if you aren’t setting goals you aren’t achieving anything in life. That’s crap. Live your life in a purposeful way and get the things done you want to get done. Oh, and I really respect how Joshua has changed his diet and health. Everyone claims to be an expert on nutrition or exercise, but not everyone knows how certain things make you feel. Focus on how you feel when you change things in your life and if you feel good, do more of those things!
The idea behind the Creativity Unleashed interview series is that I wanted to ask friends, fellow creative entrepreneurs, and people I looked up to questions they might not always get asked. I do my fair share of interviews and I mean no offense to the folks that take the time to interview me, but I get asked a lot of the same questions. With this series it’s my goal to ask unique questions and hopefully have these folks information you’ll find valuable, inspirational, or at least entertaining.
The format of Creativity Unleashed is 10 questions with no limit to the answer length and then a 10 question rapid-fire round where the answers are limited to one sentence. Look for a recap of the interview at the end.
If you’ve used Windows, picked up a copy of ESPN Magazine the past few years, owned a Lupe Fiasco or Fall Out Boy Album, you’ve experienced Chuck’s amazing design work first hand. I had the pleasure of meeting Chuck in person a few years ago in Grand Rapids, MI, after following him online and admiring his work for a few years prior. What Chuck doesn’t know is that before I knew who he was, I was trying to copy his design style in Photoshop (this was many years ago). I failed miserably.
➡ Places you can find Chuck online: NoPattern website | Instagram | Twitter
Now, on with the interview!
I’m a dude. I live in Chicago and I’m an artist, designer, photographer, etc etc. That’s my new bio lately, “artist, designer, etc etc.” Nice and easy and sarcastic. Just like me. Anyways. That’s a lot of the stuff I’m passionate about – Chicago, art, design, photography. I’m also passionate about sports like football and basketball, tattoos, my wife and cat and friends and family, good beer and coffee, Michigan (I lived in Grand Rapids for 5 years, has a special place in my heart), and the internet. SUPER PASSIONATE ABOUT THE INTERNET.
I haven’t had a job besides running my own thing (NoPattern) in almost 10 years now. My last job where I was actually an employee was for Threadless when I was like 18…I was one of only about 5 people working there (think about that compared to how big they are now) packing t-shirts. This is way back, I was literally the only person for a few months who packed ALL of Threadless’ orders. Those guys were instrumental to me when I got started, Jake, Jeffrey, Jacob, Craig…all great guys. If I had to pick another job right now, I’d be the starting QB for the Chicago Bears (answering like 10 year old me) or more realistically I’d probably be a vet and work with animals all the time.
Ah man, what a topic. Never been asked about this before but it’s a really important discussion. I really had a great upbringing, had a wonderful family and great friends but once I moved right around the start of junior high in 7th grade, I started in a new school and quickly found I was a lot more ‘artsy’ than most of the kids there. It wasn’t long before I learned what it felt like to be called a fag, homo, flamer, gay, all that good stuff. I’m not gay, but kids sure like to make you think you are if you aren’t like the rest of them. It’s that really sturdy family and smaller core of really good friends that made me never, ever dwell on that stuff. The cool thing is, eventually people started realizing I was actually pretty damn talented and could draw circles around them. I was drawing graffiti letters and characters and stuff in 8th grade and a lot of the kids that liked to give me shit earlier on started watching me draw, asking me to do stuff for them, and probably the best thing I did was be nice and play it cool and do it. Creativity is a pretty cool way to soften and humble people, especially at a young age. I wasn’t like, incessantly made fun of or ever bullied to the point of crying, but I certainly had my fair share of it. It shaped who I am today because I just always stayed really motivated to be successful as I got older so I could look back and laugh. Which I really do now. And a lot of the people I specifically remember giving me a hard time as a kid have pretty sad lives now, as I can go see on Facebook. Usually kids who bully as kids aren’t happy themselves so its not surprising. It’s sad on both sides really.
Trying too hard to be “successful” right out of the gate instead of just being who they are, making things, and letting shit come to them. I’ve had – very admirably I should add – kids as young as 13, 14 years old emailing me asking about how to get clients. That’s kind of unbelievable and I would never stop anyone at any age from trying to start a business, but I do think there’s a point at which you should just be playing, making things, being a creative kid, and worrying about the business stuff later. But hey, again, who am I to judge. The internet has made it very possible for a talented 13 year old kid to start a business and if he wants to do that, I’m all about it. But generally I feel like people now, with the speed of social media and the internet, have very little patience. It’s good to take your time honing what you want to do before rushing to “success” or worse, “getting paid”. Let that come in time.
A few years ago I’d have said I’m just all for whatever each individual wants to do. If you feel passionate about college, you should go to college. Now…man…given the state of things, it’s really difficult to recommend college to people, especially for art and design. There are more ways than ever to learn things on your own, or just cheaper, online, with books, cheaper more powerful software and computers and other tools…but it just really depends what you want to do. Either way is a gamble, but I will say from my own experience it’s pretty wonderful having zero debt.
I’m not sure if this is a failure that I “had”, as in something I tried and failed at in terms of accomplishing a job or something…but a few years ago I applied my work to the Art Directors Club Awards ‘Young Guns’ award. I figured given my pretty well known work, name, portfolio, etc., that I was a shoe-in. I’m not meaning to sound egotistical even though anyone reading this will think I do (Kanye nod), but I really did feel like Ok, it’s a given. I was humbled a few months later when I received the ‘thanks but no thanks’. To be honest, I’m kind of of the ‘fuck awards’ mentality ever since. The idea of congratulating each other for how great we are is sort of…I don’t know… I don’t really like it. How do I not sound bitter right now!? I know I do! And I know awards are just a celebration of creativity which I’m all about, but I think ever since then I was like, you know what? I like what I do and I really can’t waste my time letting getting an award or not getting an award get to me and derail me from keeping my head down and working, so…tried, failed, and learned that I probably put too much stock in A) myself and B) what it would mean to win an award. The only validation that truly means anything to me is from myself, my wife, and my clients. If those things are clicking, I’m good. Man, I sound young again!! I’m 28, but reading this answer back I sound like snotty 19 year old me! I like it! Haha. (Jason’s note: I like it too! Honesty is refreshing.)
Not really, I love the NoPattern name…but I do get sick of writing it out or how it looks in certain fonts or whatever. The “tt” in “pattern” creates a sort of odd negative space in the word sometimes, ha, but I only notice that because I’ve been using it for like 10 years now. If I had to make a new brand name right now it would be called ARTWEB—NETZONE.BIZ
Apple, of course, but I did a lot of pretty prominent work with Microsoft for Windows over the last few years. Maybe killed my chances there? Maybe not? Haha, I don’t know. I want to work on a beer brand. I haven’t pursued one yet but there’s a LOT of bad beer branding and art out there for really, really good beers, so I’ll probably go after that one of these days.
Well, this is not an easy answer that will necessarily help other people because its a very ‘custom’, unique situation, but ever since meeting my business partners and managers 5 years ago through a project I did with Joshua Davis, everything has changed. Having someone to handle client negotiating, chasing down invoices, all that stuff, life has been much easier. It’s nice not to feel totally solo, have somebody I can bounce ideas off of before I send off to the client…I think that’s different for everybody but if you have been working for a while on your own and meet the right rep/manager, it can be a really huge weight off your shoulders.
Instagram has been a big part of inspiration for me these days. Not necessarily the Instagram brand, but what I see from the people I follow on Instagram. I feel like IG has the highest concentration of interesting people using it. Twitter has everyone too, but not everyone is interesting on Twitter or is good with words. There are a few artists like KAWS or Daniel Arsham who I love following because its just amazing to see little visual snippets of their lives, their work, their studio, all that stuff. Instagram feels like a really safe haven for so many types of people and the community is incredibly interactive. What do you have to gain by liking a picture? You’re not racking up points, its just like little backpats for people but something about how easy it is I just love. That’s a pretty general answer but it’s the first thing that came to mind. Also, I’m listening to the new Arcade Fire right now and it’s as good as everyone has been saying. No surprise there though.
Stay away.
One of my best friends is a Cleveland Browns fans so I have little room to complain about anything after spending a lot of time with him go Bears.
Need to practice more.
Equal parts underrated and unnecessary.
One of the internets most iconic websites.
Picture me sitting in my chair at my desk with my shirt pulled over my head holding a skull on top of my head so it looks like thats my head and I’m spinning around in the chair forever.
Navy blue tshirt, black jeans, same thing I pretty much wear every day.
Went to my parents house and had lasagna and pumpkin beer.
The ones my friend David Allen has done on me.
You can be like 74% more productive if you burn a good smelling candle at your desk and have plants in your office. It’s science.
I can’t thank Chuck enough for taking the time to answer all these questions. One of my big takeaways from this interview is to not concern yourself with being “successful” right from the start. Worry more about creating, trying, experimenting, iterating, and learning as you go. We do get way too caught up in the speed of the Internet and worried about immediate success. It just doesn’t happen folks.
It took Chuck over a decade to get where he is. Get out there, try stuff, and don’t worry what other people think. Do it because you love it!
