design

The Eyes of Texas Are Within Me

I have eleven colors of paint throughout our three-bedroom house. I’ve thrown the Pantone book at the walls, like painting the living room a dark, glossy chocolate verging on black, and a fireplace in the dining room robin egg blue. Why do I do it? Is it an intense loathing for a beige life? Yes. Is it because I believe I should embrace living my own home, rather than keeping white walls for the next person to buy my house? Yes. But where does my love, and fearlessness, of color come from? It turns out it came from Texas.

I left my Canadian home for San Antonio to study advertising (and escape the great white north) in the 1990s. I lived south for ten years, and this Christmas Ted and I headed there for the holidays. Right away he said, “I guess this is where you discovered color.” The clash of cowboys, deserts, missions, gringos, salsa and Mexico have combined to capture every possible swatch in one place. Indeed, my camera easily captured it, too.

A buttery yellow bursts from cactus, or tints ostrich leather on a mint green cowboy boot. Hand-woven blazing red blankets lay under rich blacks in the same stores that carry stunning hand-dyed Latino dresses. White stone or feathers contrast with some of the bluest skies I’ve ever seen. I guess it was more than just the yellow rose of Texas that opened my eyes to a brilliantly colorful world. Yeehaw!

Tell me, are your walls white, or has color come into your life?  Click here for more pictures, and to see Ted (my Italian from Jersey) in a cowboy hat!

Hand-dyed Latino dresses adorned with embroidery.
Even the whites and blacks help the color of that blue, blue sky stand out.

 

Deep black leather and shiny silver contrast on this brilliant southwest blanket.

An Unsubscribed Life

Around the holidays, there’s always a part of me that wants to make life simpler. This year we decorated a little less. We bought less. We agreed to spend more time together.

In an effort to simplify my online life, I gathered all my websites onto one server. Doing so unleashed a little spam which I finally got under control, but it also made me recognize the amount of email hitting my inbox from retailers, businesses and non-profits–especially during Black Friday and Cyber Monday. Had I really signed up for a life where my inbox is filled with more want ads, than notes from friends, family and clients? My days felt more prescribed than subscribed.

Now, instead of clicking through or deleting the emails I don’t have the time to read, I’m taking a few moments to unsubscribe. I don’t need to know that Victoria Secret is selling a bra every week because I have only two boobs, and I will shop when I need to. I don’t need a hotel discount for a place I visited two years ago.

I’m keeping a few newsletters and blogs related to my work or friends, and preferred non-profit updates, so I’m reminded to help others. My hope is this simple life will give me more time with those I love the most. I think that’s the life I’d rather subscribe to. To the rest I say, “And to all a good night.”

How many emails in your inbox each day are “subscriptions?”

How my inbox feels in the morning. A mountain of email, and just hoping to find one from Ted, friends, family or clients.

 

How I want my inbox to feel. A few things to attend to in the distance, clean and clear, with us much more in focus. Both pictures were taken in the Rockies near where I grew up in Canada.

First Fridays: Heirloom Originals

It’s First Friday again. (How on earth is it December already?) As the holidays approach, and gift-giving time draws near, I’m featuring artist and friend Jennifer Hays. Jen and I worked together years ago in a small ad agency. She’s now a Senior Art Director in New York, but on the side, she, like most designers, pursues another art form. For her, it’s hand-made jewelry under the label Heirloom Originals.

Jen’s pieces are like nothing I’ve seen before. They are a mix of old antique chain, chandelier pieces, vintage scarves, rare findings, and salvaged leather. She hunts down the individual elements, takes them apart, twists, gathers and clips them together to create brand new creations with antiqued yet sturdy chains, clasps and hooks. Each necklace or bracelet is unique–no two are alike because parts are simply found–sometimes in bundles, but sometimes alone and neglected and waiting for her to come along to scoop them up. The collection is constantly updated with newly discovered textures, colors and materials.

With Jen’s creative eye, each finished piece is art directed and lovingly photographed by her as well. Close-ups show knots and details. Glass lies on wood to show structure. Necklaces strung on a vintage mannequin give a sense of length and wearability–showing Jen’s practical side.

If it’s a one-of-a-kind gift your looking for, made by the delicate hands of thoughtful American designer, using repurposed materials, look no further than Jen Hays. Her pieces are limited, so shop early.
Her Heirloom Originals are on Etsy and on Facebook.
(If you’re curious, you can also check out Jen’s day job creative projects at WorkAndThings.)

Close up of a reset crystal, chandelier pieces and edgy chain.

 

The Lariat necklace featured on Etsy.

Jennifer Hays wearing her own creation at a jewelry show in New York.

 

The Ultimate Jobs Creator

Many cities around the country hold First Friday events when artists showcase their work. For Compositions, I’ll be featuring an artist for the first blog of each month, and this month it simply has to be in honor of Steve Jobs. My life would not be what it is today without the inventions and vision of Steve Jobs. It was an Apple II my artistic fingers first found. My first business expense was a $2500 Apple G3 desktop. Six years later I humbly traded it with a friend for a new i-pod Nano. With my MacBook Pro I’ve traveled to Paris, Canada, across the US, built my business and my portfolio, and written a book or two.

Perhaps my greatest influence from Steve and Apple was in creativity. There are many rules when it comes to composition–for writers, for photographers, for designers and artists–and he was known for bending, snapping and blowing them all. By forging new boundaries with his work, he enabled me to try new things with mine. The commercials, the packaging, the colors, and technology all showed me I could build things that are both smart and beautiful. More importantly, when I strive to create something worthwhile, I have seen how it helps others discover their own worth.

He didn’t just talk about creating something different. He didn’t just talk about building jobs. He didn’t just talk about making the world better. He actually did it. Just as he said he would in this 1997 commercial. Thankfully.

Now it’s up to us. How will you pay it forward?

Giving Versus Giving It Away

In addition to writing and photography, I’m also a designer. Over the seven years I’ve had my own business, two questions are recurring. Clients ask me, “Could you do this project for free?” And designers ask me, “How do you manage all the requests for free work?” Here is my answer to both.

Building thoughtful design work that we can be proud of, and which also has great impact for the client, is a result of talent, experience and skills. For those abilities, we should be fairly compensated. However, I also believe it is our responsibility to give back to the communities where we live and work. So, my advice is to select a non-profit group and offer as many hours as you can afford. When others come begging, your conscious will be clear and you may politely decline. For several years my donation group was the Roanoke Valley SPCA–the work was rewarding, I did fun projects like this television spot, and my contact even became a good friend.

Recently, however, I did not follow my own advice, and as a result I have three free jobs–one of which is rewarding (my non-profit I selected), one of which is a drain, and one that is seriously under-utilizing my experience and talents. It is time to reapply my own advice. I recently found a Freelance Ain’t Free T-shirt online. I should order one and put it on each time I’m about to undervalue my work.

A bonus–Colada and I made the front cover of the RVSPCA brochure. (My friend Jim Dudley took the photo as part of his donation to the RVSPCA.)

 

Freedom of Expression

When I was thirteen, I bought a photograph of Mikhail Baryshnikov.  He was in mid-flight, muscles taut, and the expression on his face was one of sheer freedom. There was nothing but air around him to drive home the point. I recall staring at it hoping my body might eventually feel that way (or at least would get to feel him). Around that same time, I also discovered Annie Leibovitz, a female photographer whose portraits stunned me with their simplicity and her ability to capture the private portion of her subjects’ famous public persona. For the first time, I saw what the eye of a woman could behold and it had a profound effect on me.

In part because of her influence, photography is part of my life. My daily-life of design and writing however, has me sitting for hours. So at 40, I realized the freedom must be within dance itself (and a realization that Baryshnikov will never ask me out). So a girlfriend of mine and I started jazz classes on Tuesday, and I found freedom within minutes. It was in the rhythm of the music. In the mentality of letting go. Radiating from my limbs. And right when I thought, “I’m dancing at 40. This is fabulous!”… POW! I blew out my hip. A trip to the orthopedic doctor confirmed strained muscles, and two weeks of constrained movement.  I am not thirteen anymore. Yes, I will return to class, but perhaps life is freer behind the lens.

Baryshnikov's portrait by Annie Leibovitz that is similar to the photo I purchased.

© 2024 Karen A. Chase. Collection of data from this website is GDPR compliant, and any information you may have about data collection can be found in our privacy policy.