Why I Hate Design

Not that any of you will read this, especially my friend J-dog (because it is too much text), but as I was visiting her tonight I was explaining to her why I hate graphic design. I came up with this one night (okay, it was early early morning) after working forever on a project and just had to write it down in my journal. Why I'm publishing this for the world to see, I'm not sure. Maybe it will inspire someone in some weird way.

Yes, I've procrastinated, but only because I still would have spent my life nudging and kerning and still wouldn't have been happy after five hours. But here it is 1:30 a.m. and I want to keep working on it. The sad thing is --I still won't be happy with the final result. It's almost like I get emotionally attached to these projects where I'm breathing and living only that. And in the end, it gives nothing back.

Design abuses me. It can't love me. It can't interact with me. It's inanimate. Maybe I've been trying to hide myself in design, using it as an excuse, only to find it's not the relationship I want or need. I'm the upset girlfriend on the porch running after it as it drives away into a sunset of no feeling. It's a complete one sided relationship. And I hate it.

That's why it has been so much easier not to care. To force myself not to work on it. To hate design. To hate typography. Because if I hate it I don't have to care for it. And caring means a fervent passion. For me there's no such thing as caring only a little.

And because I'm really crazy I've included the project. It's supposed to be an annual report. Don't judge me.