In the relentless pursuit of the elusive unicorn that is the perfect tattoo over the past fifteen years, my thoughts were consumed solely with ‘the goal’. Head down, driving my feet ever forward. But never looking up.
Focusing only on the destination leaves little room for introspection about the actual journey. I’d been in the hamster ball called life, for my entire life. Until 2020. Trapped in a ‘once in a lifetime’ quiet stretch of enforced contemplation. My personal ‘Post Pandemic hangover’ has become a modest voyage of self-discovery, only now do I realise the necessity of unraveling the threads of important moments and of delving into the profound revelations that answer most of the ‘whys’ that have long lingered in the background of my life.
So here for our mutual benefit is the latest thread that I thought was worth pulling at.
Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste
I’ve been around for a long, long years
Stole million man’s soul an faith
One question that I get asked all the time goes along these lines “Paul, you’re so driven, where to you get that drive from?” The answer often surprises people when I tell them that I’m not driven in the traditional sense at all. But rather, I’m actually scared shitless and that fear has always been the major motivating force in my life. Now, I don’t believe that fear is a bad thing. Fear is a powerful motivator.
Especially as the only skill I have – if any – is that whatever the distance I have to cover, if I can cover it with nothing more than gruelling repetition and hard work, I’m in. Practice makes perfect and I’m an expert at it. So, motivated by my ever present friend called fear, he who loves to remind me that people with my socio-economic background don’t get too many chances and, when we do, we have to fight tooth and nail for just about everything we want. Because, if we don’t, then we’re fucked. One life, no respawn.
Controlling fear is impossible, it’s one of many of the melancholic truths of life. Yet, within the realm of our influence lies the power to dictate our response to fear. Personally, I’ve opted for a response steeped in the fervent, unwavering rhythm of practice. It’s this relentless dedication that has sculpted me (for good or bad) into a person with an unyielding commitment to mission. Establish a goal, toil tirelessly—no matter the magnitude of the effort—attain or falter, and then, without pause, recommence. The goal, the mission, stands as my constant guide. However, it’s the undercurrent of fear that propels me forward, breathing life into my actions.
Get A haircut & Get a Real Job
Once the music business spat me out into the real world in about 1995 I faced an alarming truth: I was utterly unemployable, lacking so-called ‘real world’ skills. It was time to confront another reality—I needed to land what they called a ‘real job.’ After a stint in college and a fateful encounter with a graphic design tutor, I found myself on the bottom rung of the ladder in a publishing company’s production department, scanning pictures all night. A start, but it was a far cry from my life on the road, Grammy nominations and remixing chart-toppers.
I was back to being the novice in the room, making tea, and soaking up knowledge. But this wasn’t my familiar territory and these weren’t my people. The office environment was extremely unfamiliar. I was lost, but I was in the room and that was all I needed. So I got to work.
Over time, I discovered that the lessons of humility, focus, and perpetual learning, gleaned from the music business, worked wonders in the design world. The principles of effective creative communication knew no bounds. Once that clicked, progress was swift; I found myself promoted, much to the chagrin of the ‘real’ graphic designer who ran the department. This would be my first taste of one of the uglier sides of human nature —the resentment of those with over inflated egos threatened by the newcomer in their exclusive ‘club.’
Years later, I’d encounter similar disdain from tattooists threatened by authenticity and unique voices. But that’s a tale for another time.
Back in the design studio I was faced with an unhelpful, jaded character who didn’t think his ‘talent’ should be wasted working for a lowly local newspaper especially when they’d allow idiots like me in the room. I was, to him, proof that they just didn’t get it. They couldn’t see how a proper graphic designer would be offended by having to work with ‘a monkey with a computer’.
Even though I was slightly offended at the comparison I didn’t show it. This monkey had a plan and a family to feed. Nothing was going to get in the way of that. I wasn’t an overwhelmed teenager anymore. By this point in my life I stared down gun wielding angry concert promoters, seen a couple of OD’s and lived in the chaos of ‘the road’ for years. I’d grown up in the grubby, lower echelons of Rock ’n’ Roll, so to say I didn’t scare easily would’ve been quite an understatement.
So, I persevered. Early mornings, late nights and lunch breaks all dedicated to learning with nothing more than a cold cup of coffee and a single cheese sandwich made from the cheapest ingredients money could buy. It was both comically and tragically unglamorous but, in a couple of years, I became proficient in design software and had managed to glean enough information from the fledgling ‘World Wide Web’ to build a self-taught, nuanced understanding of graphic design. I also hate cheese sandwiches to this days.
I’m sure any apprentice tattooist will recognise this kind of obsessive behaviour only too well.
Added to my newly emerging skills were the years spent reading the ‘sonic cathedrals of sound’ era writings of the NME, recording endless radio slots and staring at guitar adverts. This meant that, with a little effort, I figured out that I could put together passable advertising copy and design a decent advert (or 10) for a kitchen company. All the while I was doing this I was taunted and laughed at by the ‘pro’ who had no interest in progressing his skills. He maintained that I’d never be the real thing like him because I hadn’t earnt it by coming up ‘the proper way’.
And that wouldn’t be the last time I’d hear that criticism in my life either.
I’d already experienced the uncomfortable relationship between artistic integrity and commerce working in a recording studio as kid. And, as I became more and more skilled and knowledgable in design, it became laughably obvious to me that ‘my boss’ wasn’t the talent he thought he was. As my skills evolved, it became evident that he lacked any real talent and even a grasp of modern design. He was a hack. Just phoning it in for a pay check, already on his way to the Elephants Graveyard.
His attitude stunk and it really bothered me. I was obsessed with design, eating, sleeping, living and breathing it. His lazy, jaded approach just struck me as mad. Why would you bother to do something this hard if you didn’t really love it? When you could be just as miserable in a much easier job!
Not long after, my hard work started to pay off. I picked up advertising awards, he moved on, and I found myself in charge, eventually leading the company’s Internet and magazine departments before venturing out to start my own agency.
The lessons from my teenage encounters with the true pros, the musicians, echoed: Never stop learning. Never rest on your laurels. Stagnation is the enemy of growth and very good is the enemy of great. I simply carried their words and ethos into my design career and my life. Be there, seize opportunities and get to work. Turn up, be awesome, go home. Spend less time figuring out the right decision. Just make a decision, then make it right.
The ‘driving force’ behind my transformation from roadie to designer was my old friend fear. He helped me to focus. To ignore the negative voices and detractors and to just push on, keep my eye on the prize and get to the place that I (and my young family) needed me to get to. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t ‘a real designer’ or that I hadn’t ‘earnt it’. The fear of the endless drudgery of the factory life that was (supposedly) my assigned destiny kept (and still keeps) me pushing myself and my art every day.
So Never stop learning. Never take your foot off the gas and sit back thinking you’ve arrived. Use whatever you have to motivate you to get to your chosen destination. Even if all you have is fear, nipping at your heals. Get to work.