I ~ Push
The past two weeks have been a teary-eyed blur. I’ve been searching for meaning in all of it.
Two years ago we moved to Portland, Maine. At the tail end of the pandemic, having spent a year cooped up in our little Brooklyn apartment nearly losing our minds. Remember when we lived so close to our loved ones, but couldn’t touch or see behind the mask or grab a cup of coffee? Remember when we were all bored and hopeless and huddled together on Zoom calls each night? It was after a year of this torment that I desperately craved newness and thought my virtual friendships could sustain any distance. Today I laugh in the face of my reflection as I spent the last week blanketed in loneliness and regret.
There are a lot of things that brought me to Maine and the way the sea salt licks my face as I bike down Commercial Street is just one. Each time we visited, we fell more in love with the proximity to the ocean, and the sunsets, and the community, and the food. As we became more and more disenchanted with city-life, taking the leap seemed like the perfect solution. We moved here two years ago not knowing anybody.
The fog of existential crisis has started to lift, but I still question my choices and feel devastated by the distance I’ve created between myself and my best friends. What is the point of a beautiful sunset, delicious food, and a salty breeze without your best friends to share it with?
I feel incredibly grateful that I’ve been able to build a career for myself here (so many beautiful relationships built entirely off trust in me!) …yet things can feel so stagnant.
Design jobs in this city are essentially non-existent and the market is so small and saturated it can be difficult to compete for freelance opportunities. You have to work extra hard to stand out, but it’s not impossible. Things are a bit slower here and everyone is late on trends. Lately, I find myself having to advocate for why good design is worth the price - or why it even matters to begin with.
In the land of lobsters and logging, efficiency and quality tend to overshadow fonts and frills.
Last weekend I attended a cannabis convention an hour north in Augusta, Maine. I had spent weeks curating a booth for my client, creating signs and banners and marketing materials, and scheming ways to highlight their brand, share their values, and connect with the community.
While I received so many compliments and praise for my designs, I haven’t been able to shake the one business owner who went into great detail about how investing in nice packaging isn’t important because people just throw it away.
Yeah, I thought, people do just throw it away…but what about your product intrigued people to buy it in the first place?
Attractive and well-designed branding and packaging serves many purposes. It creates an emotional connection, provides an experience, and protects your product — no one will care how great your product is or how cute your packaging looks if it can't protect your product on the ride home from the store!
II ~ Pull
The aesthetic-usability effect describes a phenomenon in which people perceive more-aesthetic designs as easier to use than less-aesthetic designs. Masaaki Kurosu and Kaori Kashimura from the Hitachi Design Center first studied this effect in 1995, discovering that we are more tolerant towards usability flaws in well-designed technology. Learn more about the aesthetic usability effect here.
Presenting a consistent brand image that conveys reliability and trust builds consumer loyalty in your company and your product. You can’t always be there to convey your brand’s voice, so it’s important to have attractive and functional packaging because it is the absolute first impression your customer gets.
But I don’t need to convince you why design is important, there's something bigger that's often missing and eats away at the very heart of us designers: respect.
I have worked really hard to earn respect from my clients and my community. The best projects I’ve worked on are the ones where leadership provided me with the assets and creative control needed to be successful. How empowering it feels to be seen a decision maker rather than a decorator!
There are always going to be people who claim they can do the work cheaper but I have learned that the right clients will always choose me because I’m me. There is plenty of room for regret if your skills aren't competitive, you get worn out too easily, can't take criticism, aren't willing to learn from failure. The right clients - and success (however you define it) will find you. When they do, you will feel seen, valued and paid your worth.
And so, what keeps me here (for now) is exactly what pushes me away. I have found a niche that keeps me busy, pays the bills, challenges me and gives me space to grow as an artist - but I don’t have (or need) all the answers now. While my pages write themself, I’ll just enjoy the salty air and the chilly water between my toes.
III~ SHOW / TELL
A sunset, recently shared with friends, in Northville, NY.
Gnocci with red sauce from the Italian Festival that tasted the closest i’ve come to my Nana’s recipe.
My newest wholesaler, Nahcotta. Nahcotta is an inspiring and beautiful space offering original art and fine goods. It’s one of my favorite spots in Portsmouth, New Hampshire and truly an honor to be a part of. If you’re nearby, shop my goods and visit their kind and creative team.
May all your projects feed your soul, your clients see your vision, and your red sauce taste like home.
XOXO,
🌀Email: hello@melandrel.com