Pixel Pushing Monkey

Warning: This post is undoubtfully, 100% emo.

Traditionally, I only post emo stuff following you know, some sort of a heart-breaking event in my life. This time really isn't any different. Yes, there is a heart-breaking event in my life (of a very typical & easily guessable nature). However, that event in itself isn't to be talked about here in a public forum. As far as this post is concerned, that event only serves as a catalyst for me to think about posting something here that is related to the mood itself, but not the subject matter. It also serves to explain why this "blog" uses a publicly available template, instead of a customized, made-just-for-me template that all proper designer should have.

The heart of the matter is, I loathe everything I make.

I had a conversation with my best friend last night, it was brought up that I have this huge void, a yearning and desire to be loved. She thought that I wanted to be loved by everybody as much as I loved myself, seeing that I always seem to self-righteous and stern about my ideals. There's no question that she was definitely right about my need to be loved, but the reason is actually opposite of what she thought. I don't love myself, not even a little bit.

Part of being a designer is that you need to have very firm belief in what you're doing. Design is subjective, although you may support your design choices with as much rationalization, facts and data as possible, you can't avoid debating over subjective opinions. For example, if I chose a shade of light green as our branding color, I can support that choice with the rationalization that it is a friendly, approachable color. Thus allowing our brand to stand out against other brands which are more tech-oriented, with a clearly defined male-dominant target audience. At the same time the color will not turn away the tech audience by being too effeminate. I've made this choice based on my experience, my personal opinion, and gut instinct.

So when someone asks, "Why can't we go with blue?" Or even better, when someone says, "I really don't like green, we should go with a color that's more, you know... (insert your choice of pretty/normal/like what that other company does/pink here)." As a designer, you need to have the conviction and confidence to stand up for your point of view. This need for conviction is why I seem to be self-loving. "Steve thinks he's always right," is a statement of what I seem to be in front of others, not necessary of how I process thoughts internally.

I like to blame my job for this weird personality disorder of mine. It is also very possible though, that I chose this career because of that personality disorder. So in a way, I would've been the same whether or not I'm a designer, but by some strange twist of fate I happen to have a personality disorder that allows me to perform better at my job.

So, I have no love for myself. In its place is really a constant stream of self-doubt, insecurity and self-loathing. I can't really explain how or why it started, it goes back for as long as I could remember, even as a child I was introspective in the worst way possible. I'm constantly examining my own faults, and rarely happy with any of my accomplishments (if one could call them accomplishments-worthy at all). Worst of all, is that even under this constant self-examination, endless number of personal flaws still slip through the crack. Thus the endless cycles of self-examination, loathing, and fixing what isn't fixable.

How is this an essential part of my creative process? One of the most important lesson that all designer must learn, is that everything has flaws, faults, and must be critiqued. If you can't identify what is "wrong", you can never figure out what is "right". Then you may or may not look at what you've just corrected into the "right" and try to determine whether or not the new "right" is now also "wrong" as well. The only thing that stops the cycle, is the deadline imposed by some other department outside of the design process. This pursuit of perfection will never end, and perfection doesn't exist.

When I'm done with a major design project, I usually sit back a bit, admire all that has been accomplished, and feel good about my existence in the universe for a few brief moments. It's only a matter of time before I find flaws in what I just accomplished, then there comes the fear and desperate hope that no one else has noticed the same flaws I just found. "How did I let that one get away?" "That color isn't right." "I should've done something different here." And it's only a matter of time before the momentary relaxation turn into another round of complete self-loathing.

Yes, I loath everything I've ever created.

There was a time when my portfolio was small enough, and my ambition for my own design-oriented website was just a few pages. I designed the website over the weekend, have everything coded, up and running by the end of that weekend. If I had any time at all to go through the self-examination process, it just stops. I hate what I've just created, I must destroy it and rebuild it again. This is also why PixelPushingMonkey has no real website and no real design of mine at the moment. I have not found enough time to complete this massive project in as short of a time as possible, before the self-loathing kicks in, before I want to destroy it all just to rebuild it half-way again.

I guess, this is the quality that makes me at least somewhat decent at my job.

It is also a very slow deterioration that eats through my very own being, a bit at a time, making that heart devoid of self-love even more empty. The void continues to grow, and my yearning for love goes along with it.

It would be a misnomer to say that the cycle never ends, because at some point, I imagine, I would have to stop. I would collapse, I would give it all up. At some point... maybe.

I could let it continue to eat me up inside, or I could force a change of perspective on my own life. How do you change someone into something that they're not, that they've never been? I don't think it's possible to change one's personality and their belief in life by rationalization and willpower. Aren't we all exactly just as dysfunctional as we're meant to be?

For the moment, the void is manageable.

I spent the past week thinking of a clever title for this post, to my failure and disdain, that which you see (yeah, up there, look up) is the best I can come up with.

As a bit of background, Purple Violets gained a bit of attention as the first movie directly released to iTunes as an exclusive before it is available either as a direct-to-video release via DVD/VHS/rental or in the theaters. This move generated a bit of media coverage which probably would've never occured via any other channels, and the film would likely have died an obscure death, or relegated to the bargin bin in Best Buy.

However, Purple Violets' release is not just a play on generating media hype. The nature of the film itself is almost exactly the opposite of that. I am reminded of a few years ago, when horror movie genre was gathering steam yet again, and there were a lot of hype generated around some horror film fest (something akin to the 4 horror films you'll never see, major studio will never release, or one of those all-weekend horror film b-flick marathons... or something); and the films all turned out to be forgettable, mediocre waste-of-my-time-and-intellect (what little is left of that last part).

Purple Violet is *not* one of those films that would've been dependent on media hype to just be seen. It is a very frank, straight forward and non-assuming film about relationships and human interaction. It doesn't provoke any new revelations or truth about human nature, it doesn't have any real controversies to induce emotional conflicts from its audience. Most of all, it does not attempt to make you cry and weep to prove that it is in fact, a very romantic & emotionally engaging film.

To put it blandly, this film is simply about people who had made mistakes in their lives, especially in regards to their choice in relationships; and how they were given another chance to rediscover what they might have been, and what they have lost. The dialogs aren't dressed up with unnecessary complexity, they're delivered naturally without pretense. Part of that I attribute to the script (written by Edward Burns, who is also the director), and a part of which I attribute to the wonderful casting (Selma Blair's best work). The story itself is refreshingly linear, you always know where the movie is going, and it never once pretends that it's going to veer away from that path.

This movie reminds me of Next Stop, Wonderland, which is another romantic film that delivers its content without dressing. Due to the likable characters and the tenderness of its plot, you can't help but fall in love with the characters in the film. Purple Violets reminds me of how good a film can be, without trying to be anything that it's not.