The freedom of failure
Why invisibility might be our creative superpower
Hey Internet friends,
Sorry for the double email this week, but my hands are shaking, maybe it’s the weather. I just couldn't wait.
So I've been obsessing over this question lately: what does finding your identity mean? And when does that identity help you get noticed for your approach, rather than just the stuff you make?
It's been a while since I launched this newsletter, and I'm finally feeling that spark again. Why did I lose it? Well...
I was inconsistent as hell. I got stuck writing about topics I thought I should care about because they were connected to my job, but probably missing the essence of what I really cared about.
I probably shouldn't trash-talk my own newsletter, but if you're subscribed, you already know self-criticism is my love language.
My brain is a mess right now (in a good way)
This week I'm all over the place. I've got CGI projects I'm definitely not practicing enough, plus this research project I abandoned months ago because it was "too speculative" and not "practical enough."
I'm trying to figure out the relationship between our senses and digital environments, like, could we build digital spaces that feel serene? A sanctuary in the digital chaos where you're not overwhelmed and can be mindful? Sounds contradictory, right? That's exactly why I'm obsessed with it.
But here's what's really on my plate today:
FAILURE
What does it mean to keep pushing when you don't see results? Because here's the thing, the results are probably there, we're just looking at them wrong. Light topic for a Wednesday, I know!
I think success and failure are the same thing wearing different outfits. It's all about perception.
Like, how do you even measure failure? And more importantly, what the hell is success anyway?
Failure isn't the opposite of success, it's literally how you get there.
It's the doorway, not the dead end.
I've gone through phases where I was obsessed with success, but my definition was completely distorted. I thought success meant X studio would call me, or I'd make Y amount of money each month.
My success formula was this weird equation:
Success = earning $X + being seen by Y people + working with studio Z.
Quick question: are you actually ready for success?
If you think you're not successful, try this mind game: how would you handle success if it smacked you in the face tomorrow?
Seriously, if you woke up to 100,000 Instagram followers or 10,000 Substack readers overnight, would you survive their expectations? Could you handle the pressure of being consistently interesting to all those people?
And wait, do you even know what interests them in the first place? That's step one, and I haven't figured it out yet.
I think my readers want to follow my chaotic creative process from cybernetic speculation to "help, I'm having a creative panic attack," but maybe I'll never be "successful" because I can't read minds. And honestly? I'm kind of okay with that.
The beautiful anonymity of being unsuccessful
If you're not successful, no one judges you. Isn't that the most luxurious gift ever? Doing whatever the hell you want without someone analyzing your every move?
When no one's watching, you're free. You can experiment, mess up, play around. And here's a scary thought: if you started making money from your passion, would you still love it? Or do you love it because it's your escape from all the boring stuff you have to do?
Let's try a little thought experiment
You're designing a car campaign for your agency. You're bored out of your mind because you hate cars. In your success fantasy, you'd never take this job, you'd be designing exclusively for museums and cultural spaces.
So break it down: if MoMA called tomorrow and asked you to redesign their entire brand identity, how would you feel? Excited, sure, but also terrified, right? You'd be alone, and that logo would be PERMANENT. Everyone could comment, judge, mock, hate. "Worst MoMA logo ever" going viral? That could be you!
Rate your anxiety on a scale of 1-10 just thinking about this scenario. If it's over 5 (I'm personally at like, 11), you're probably not ready for that kind of success. Maybe it's better to keep developing your skills, understanding your abilities, and figuring out what you're actually capable of.
What if we flip the script?
What if we start seeing failure as just part of the process? Like the yin to the yang? I think we'd enjoy creating a lot more and stress a whole lot less. Enjoy the journey because, real talk, this exact moment won't come back.
Keep creating, but not to reach some grand objective, just for the pure joy of the process. Getting paid for something doesn't automatically make it good or professional.
How many times have you thought about giving up? Settling for mediocrity? But if you're still dreaming about designing your favorite band's logo someday, then keep messing up, keep playing, and keep having fun.
Stop fixating on the destination and start enjoying the weird, messy road trip.
P.S. How do YOU measure success?
Let me know in the comments or join the subscriber’s chat to chit-chat about it.
Love 🖤
Never enough?
I’m starting a paid subscribers program with a few things that you might find helpful if you are challenging to boost your creative career
🎁 A weekly sandbox straight to your inbox where I collect my favorite takeaways in digital art, innovation, and CGI with my unnecessary comments.
🔮 Personal portfolio review sessions (I’ll send you an invitation where you can book your slot once I have enough requests)
Hungry for deep talks? I’m open for career advice sessions, just email me at lbertazzo95@gmail.com
Stay hydrated, see you soon 🦖