I am literarily disorganized, and known to even use words that likely exist only in the oddity that is the dictionary of my own mind. I warn you now, yes, I will lol at times. I will make bad jokes, and worse yet, puns. That said, I suppose I should get over my blogging shyness and actually write something.

Tonight I read a rather interesting article by Khoi Vinh at Subtraction.com. The premise of the piece was how as a designer we handle peer criticism, and how open are we when it comes to honestly criticising the work of others. In all honesty, it has been awhile since a design related piece has really made me – literally – stop and think.

Being a bit of a loner, I am honestly not connected with the design community. I follow a few whose advice or acheivments I have admired or have helped me grow, but have no real contact with a single solitary designer. After reading that piece, I began to wonder how much of that had to do with my self proclaimed “shyness” and how much may have to do with my fear of peer criticism.

Being self taught, I began design quite the ugly pixel. Layers were a foreign concept to me, and figuring out how to add a stroke to text was a mountain to climb, that looking back seems almost laughable. Yet still, having no experience at all, even the most minor of codes or design techniques were enough to keep me up until the wee hours on tutorials and long head-to-desk banging sessions.

I spent that time on many sites picking up advice, learning and playing as I went along, looking at the amazing work of so many, and shuddering in comparison to my seemingly sloppy image blendings and not quite right color schemes.

I began my undertaking of design originally to create a unique site for my newborn daughter, to share her with distant family, and to give her something more personal to her than a cookie cutter freebie baby site cluttered with sponsor ads. As I strived to improve it, eventually others took notice, friends and family, friends of family and so on, and somewhere along the line people actually began to think I was good. Me? Good? Wow, they need to get on the internet more.

Offers began to come in here and there from friends of a friend and eventually over the course of 3-4 years, my little pet project turned into a full fledged business.

Yet still, after so many years, I am left with that “Who? Me?” feeling.

Reading Khoi’s article, I have to wonder exactly how far we have to come before we fully acheive confidence in our work. Confidence enough to stand beside our peers and open ourselves up to their words and accept them without vulnerability. I have to wonder if some of us ever truly will ever be able to. For myself, each thing I design isn’t just a job, but something personal. It’s a creation that comes from my mind, from endless hours of labor and caffeine and even admittedly still, head-to-desk therapy on occassion. Can some of us ever truly seperate our designs and ourselves?

For me, I am not sure I will ever be able to make that leap. As it is, all too often my own eye I am often told is too critical of my own work, yet I feel I am simply realistic of the fact that I can always do better, and will strive to. I like to think that in the end, that is what makes me a good designer. Whether or not my peers feel I am, I suppose I would have to actually ask one day. Thanks to Khoi, I just may.