You get out of it what you put into it.

Words shared with me at a pivotal time in college. I had washed out from the graphic design program at my school... because my work was judged as "too personal". The following year I took general illustration classes and moved into the BFA program without a "focus". I took a class, Monotype + Woodcut, simply to fill time and get credit. I admit it. I was adrift.

During this course, we had our initial woodcut assignment. I barely scraped the board, and printed out some BS Frank Miller-esque drivel. My teacher, David Morrison, saw right through it. During the critique, my classmates said nothing ill of my submission... and because I have the gift of gab, I glided through, unscathed. Until David spoke.

"You get out of it what you put into it."

He wasn't much of a talker. Did BRILLIANT pieces though, and taught more on process and technique than anything else. His words here though... cut through me like a hot knife. I didn't know I was hurt until we were two students further in critique. After class, I walked into David's office. I told him that I understood him fully, and begged for a redo on the piece. "No need. Your piece was fine. Just keep it in mind for the next one. OK?"

The next (and last) woodcut piece for the course was assigned. I focused as I'd not in years. I don't even quite recall the actual piece itself, as much as I recall carving the entirety of the board with a 1mm gouge. At critique, David perked up. "Wonderful stuff. See me after class."

David offered me a senior year special course. 2 semesters as his "TA". But not to actually work in classes. He challenged me to make a piece or pieces that I'd like to create throughout senior year. And I came back to him with the plan. 16 boards. 20" x 30" each. Only using a 1mm gouge. Interlocking to form a final piece 10 feet tall. My interpretation of the Jewish concept of the Book of Life. This was to be my page (my life up until then).

"Whoa. That's a lot of work, buddy. You sure you—"

"I'm sure."

And with that, for the better part of my senior year in college, I carved every last board. I buried my basement in our rented house full of wood shavings. I must have blown through a case of sharpies. And come the end of the year, my girlfriend's father (now my father in law) helped me mount the full piece together. He, too, is not a man of many words. "You carved all this out?" "Yup" "Well, sh*t! Looks good!".

So. Why this anecdote? Well, it's because I'm apt to admit that for a while now, amidst many comings and goings... I've been struggling behind the scenes. Like no matter how hard I'd tread, I couldn't keep my head above water. The only other time I've honestly felt this way was back at school. Not for lack of trying, of talent, or now even of purpose. Just that impossible to scratch itch that nagged at me.

A little over a week ago, Unshaven Comics (my forever side-hustle) took a gamble on ourselves to attend the Licensing Expo in Las Vegas. The irony about gambling was not lost on us. While we were there, we told our story across 35+ meetings. And in doing so, I came to realize how the 15 years of work we'd put in as a studio was akin to that giant woodcut. And because of it we left that show with genuine interest. Something we never banked on in a million years.

In my day job (where, spoiler alert, I do plenty of non-personal design work, lol), we've been knee-deep in project work. Toiling in copy, pixels, strategies, presentations, and so on. Several times this week alone, I was asked directly "are you burnt out?". I was clear as I could be: no. As close to it as I might have been coming over and over... I've not capsized. The candle still only burns from one end; I've just had a harder time seeing the forest for the trees. Is that enough metaphors for y'all?

As with so many things these days... sometimes it's worth it to take a step back. Close your eyes. Take a deep breathe. Really let yourself sink into the ground for a beat. Maybe hum that amazing Bruce Cockburn lyric that's been permanently looped in your head:

Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight. Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight.

Truly, if I am to have a mantra, I can't think of anything more suited to the successes I've been privy to.

You get out of it what you put into it.

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