If you are reading this, it means you survived February, made it through March, and arrived at one of the best times of the year. Thank the universe. We made it through winter, and we made it to spring. Spring is the best. Everything starts to bloom, the air is clean, and the sun finally comes out.
No one feels the stress of too many (summer) plans (yet). The days are getting longer, the cold is officially receding, and it's just good weather from here on out (until we start melting in August, but I'll even take that over the dark days of January and February). I can't wait to spend hours and hours in my yard and ride my bike in the sunshine
I didn't write a February newsletter because I couldn't get it together. I had many recaps and philosophical musings all typed up, but nothing felt right, so I scraped it. Instead, I celebrated some VIPs' birthdays, went skiing, and worked on two website projects, a map, and a handful of personal projects.
I billed my clients, made plans for an electrician to run electricity to the shed, and started a painting class I am taking at Ulna Studio. I worked on some ads and posters for The Peoples Courts, acquired a new house plant (a fishbone cactus), and schemed up a zillion garden and house projects.
February faded into March, leading me right into March 6th (the anniversary of a tough day for me). I tried to let myself feel all the feelings without worrying too much about their meaning or whether they were reasonable (easier said than done). I did an OK job, but I was feeling many things leading up to that day. I keep thinking that the grief won't sneak up on me anymore, but it still does, and all I can do is learn when it feels okay to engage with those feelings and also when to set them aside and focus on other things. (TY therapist).
I wish I had some profound wisdom on grief or a clear-eyed narrative to summarize the last year and how I feel about it all, but I don't. Life is full of feelings; I don't need to organize them into a narrative that other people can easily digest. (Therapist again!)
We honored the anniversary by planting a tree in our front yard, and I put together a small memory box, which I tucked under our bed. One day, I will look back on this day with less heartbreak. The silver lining here for me is that I never knew grief like this before, and now that I do, I can be so much more empathetic to those around me who may be feeling something similar.
We are all grieving something all the time; it's nice to remind myself of that and know that now I can better recognize my grief (about all sorts of things) and the grief that others might be dealing with.
The universe knew I needed a pick-me-up, so after almost a year, the bag I had illustrated for New Seasons finally hit the shelves. It's fun seeing all the photos of the bags in real life and hearing from friends and family who saw them and bought one!
I learned a lot of lessons on this project, the main one being to always get proof. The marketing team opted out of getting a proof made (and I didn't inquire if they would or press them to), so there wasn't an opportunity for us to check the print quality and colors or do a final check for any spelling errors, and it turns out one of the older versions of the art got submitted to the printer so there are a handful of minor spelling errors which is disappointing (and embarrassing)! We updated the art for the next run of bags, but it tempered my enthusiasm. Nick said it best: I learn by doing and won't make that mistake again. Here's to learning from your mistakes and trying to improve next time.
Towards the end of March, we finally got some nice weather—70 degrees and sunny! I'm sure everyone in Portland was outside lounging and soaking it in. We spent the weekend digging a giant hole (a trench) for the electricity to run to the shed. A couple of friends helped us dig for a few hours. I wouldn't want to dig trenches for a living, but digging one in our backyard with friends on a sunny day was fun.
The electrician came out a few days later and wired everything up! It's been cool to go out to the shed and turn the lights on. I'm so excited to get the rest of the work wrapped up so that I can move in! I'll have more updates on the shed in my next newsletter.
My most recent work update is that I got a new project with a studio on the East Coast, and I'll be working with them part-time for the rest of the year. I started this week, and it's been fun to meet the team and be a part of a Slack channel again (there are so many new emojis since my last time in Slack)! It feels like Deja Vu to my days at OMFGco and a whole new thing; being on a studio design team as a *designer* *exciting*.
This project has also helped ease my stress around the question of whether I should position my studio as more of a design studio (providing strategy and design services to clients) or as an extension of myself as an artist (building an illustration style so that I can collaborate with clients, license my artwork, and sell it to customers).
I've been trying to do both, and they are getting in the way of each other. They sound similar but are still different, and to succeed at running a small business, you need to be clear about what you do, who you do it for, and why. I've been dealing with this issue for the past year. I've done design and illustration both, but lately, I've been spinning my wheels on how to grow my business because I can't decide what type of work I want. Run a design studio or Build an illustration brand. I've been at a crossroads for a minute, not knowing which to commit to, but this new project gives me more time to figure it out and potentially some more information on which one I want to commit to when the time comes. Feeling very grateful about it and lucky too! Now I’m going to go out and lay in the sun before the rain comes back.
Thanks for reading, and if you are a subscriber, thank you for subscribing; it makes me feel like I am not just sending these newsletters into the blue.
You are such a beautiful and powerful writer, Ariel. Your words make me reflect, laugh, cry and thankful you’re mine to call daughter-in-law.