the greeting card business

One very crisp memory from my childhood was birthday cards from my dad.

These were only "cards" in reference. They were actually large-format composed marker renderings mounted to foamcore that he had worked on while at the office—during the golden age when an art director's office was made up of drawing boards, vast pads of vellum and Prismacolor marker. The giant expressions wreaked of spray mount and alcohol from the premium markers, and they illuminated whatever fascination that my brothers or I were dwelling on in that particular given year. I imagined that he had the crack team of copy writers working long into the night to craft the perfect way to express the sentiment of "Happy 14th Birthday."

The burden of being a designer is that everything you produce must be "designed"—from the list of items that we need from the store to the house numbers painted on your front stoop. Professionals now include their own wedding invites and birth announcements in their portfolios. Trade magazines now have categories for these types of things.

But I can't think of a greater inspiration for doing my best work. I'm looking forward to spending that half hour I have between one meaningless meeting and the next to graphically visualize whatever the significant event might be. And I swear that I'll pour more intent into that piece that I happened to for the client paying top dollar for my creative insight. And like the way I saw the cards that my dad made for me, I hope my kid thinks "wow, my dad's got chops!"