In Praise of the Unplanned Career How not setting strick goals can open more doors By Danielle Meder
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way too much money for entry-level positions, blithely displaying a complete lack of social skills to my interviewers. I couldn’t place the blame for my failure to launch on the economy or any external factor… it was genuinely all my own fault. I had never had a full-time job in my life, and it looked like I was never going to. While going through a post-graduation existential crisis is a totally normal thing, I felt like I was all alone, floating in a void of equivocal possibilities without a sure thing to grab on to. After years of scheduled schooling, this was incredibly disorienting. Gradually, my life half-filled up with incidental occupations. I got a part-time job as a sales assistant, a job that I found pleasant, which sustained me financially, while keeping my options open. With all the time on my hands, I kept plugging away on the fashion blog that I had started while I was still in school, continuing to read, draw and write, and take on random freelance projects, as I always did. And for that time, I became content with the present. Even though admitting my situation to my former classmates made me feel like an unambitious loser, the truth was that I was content for the moment, getting used to living in limbo. Into the emptiness, something magical happened at that time. I had been posting my illustrations on my site for some time, and occasionally I would get an inquiry from a potential client for this little job or that little job. A couple hundred bucks here or there. These little trickles of opportunity were so infrequent, I never
RYERSON FOLIO / Fall 2012
seriously considered illustration as a career. But then I got a large project from a client, enough work to keep me busy and pay my bills for a couple of months. I was wondering how I would fit it all in with my part-time job, but just like that I happened to get laid off of my retail gig. It felt like fate had figured out a plan for me to follow, like destiny had finally given me a ‘dream’ to pursue. On those tentative circumstances, I decided not to look for another job and launch myself into the career of a full-time freelance illustrator. Which, rather than writing up a business plan, pretty much consisted only of printing up some business cards that said “fashion illustrator” on them. I had the vague sense that I would figure it out as I went along. I’m very lucky that I have parents who are also self-employed, so when I told them what I was doing they offered their support and encouragement - I know most parents are not so thrilled to hear their child has decided to become an independent creative careerist. In any case, as a child of fellow bohemians, I couldn’t depend on their financial support, so in those first few months - okay, years to be honest - I wobbled between feast and famine. I’ve just passed the five year mark of being a fashion illustrator… but it hasn’t felt so much like climbing a mountain or embarking on a quest as it has like spontaneously following a rabbit down a hole. I’ve met a lot of strange and wonderful characters but never a mentor or a guru. I’ve rediscovered again and again that I don’t
Illustrated by Danielle Meder
ne of the few things I miss about school is the comfort of always knowing what’s coming next. At the beginning of the term they hand you a sheet of paper that tells you what you’re going to be doing, when you’re going to be doing it, and where. A bit stifling to be sure, but also reassuring. You don’t have to face the dizzying infinite sky of choices until you approach graduation. Before that happens, sure, you’re stressed about major projects and exams, but these are simple, concrete issues to deal with. Fielding that frequent inquiry, “what are your plans after graduation?” can be much more difficult. Maybe you love that question, maybe you are the rare sort of human who always knows what’s next. Some people are born to plan. Their notebooks are full of lists and their goals are clearly defined. They settled on a path when they were small children, and the rest of their life is simply taking steps towards that destination. For those of us without a clear vision of the future, conventional advice to follow your dreams and plan for the future is more frustrating than helpful. How can you follow your dreams when you don’t know what your dreams are? What is the point of planning if you don’t know what you’re planning for? I felt lost when I graduated. I didn’t have a clear idea of what to do next. I half-heartedly looked for a job because I knew that was what was ‘supposed’ to happen, but I self-sabotaged myself in various ridiculous ways… writing the wrong company’s name on my cover letter, asking for