Celebrating a Decade of Creativity, Design & Letterforms
Happy Tenth Anniversary!
It’s November 2024, and I’m writing this article to celebrate my own 10th anniversary as an independent creative business of one.
This marks a huge milestone for me, and I want to make sure I celebrate it in the best possible company, you. I also want to take this opportunity to say thank you and express my gratitude for all of it: The Good, The Bad, The Great, The Ugly, and everything else in between.
Ultimately, this journey is not just about my creative outcomes, but about what I’ve learned and who I’ve become after a decade of dancing with creativity and letterforms.
Here’s how it all started— I hope you’ll enjoy the ride!
Melbourne, January 2014
After two years working full-time as a remote textile designer for a company based in Inner Mongolia, I lost my job in January 2014. There was no prior notice—no warning signs, no red flags, nothing at all. In fact, I thought everything was going well, especially since one of our clients, Massimo Dutti, had just announced that one of our designs was their multinational best-selling scarf for 2013.
Between November 2011 and December 2013, alongside my business partner and fashion designer Laura Piera, we designed four hundred twenty-three textiles.
In mid-January 2014, a short email appeared in my inbox, saying something like, “Thank you very much for all your hard work; we really appreciate it. We cannot keep you in our books any longer. Thanks for your collaboration, and Happy Chinese New Year.”
Before this textile design role, I had studied a Postgraduate Course in Advanced Typography, which I loved. During that course, I met one of the most influential people in my career up to that point, my teacher Laura Meseguer.
In 2012, I used all my holidays for the year to move to New York City for five weeks and study a Condensed Program in Type Design at Type@Cooper. During my time studying typeface design, I discovered that releasing a font was a very long process. This was challenging for me, as I knew three things about my workflow and interests:
- Unreasonable two-to-three-day turnaround deadlines were undesirable. They forced me to work under too much pressure, jeopardizing the quality of the work.
- Projects lasting longer than three months became very challenging, as I would lose focus and efficiency.
- I was falling in love with lettering, inspired by the work of Alex Trochut, Gemma O’Brien, and Ken Barber.
The day after I lost my full-time job, I returned to my co-working space to start my regular 10-hour workday, but this time, with nothing in my inbox. So, I designed my ideal briefs: two-to-four-week projects that combined my current skills of writing letters, drawing type, and illustrating, resulting in my first lettering piece—a tribute to Jan Tschichold.
During the first six months of 2014, my partner supported me financially, and I squeezed every minute of it, exploring, playing, and creating self-generated work for the first time in my life. I began to exercise my own voice and pay attention to things that deeply resonated with me.
Three months later, I created my first illustrated cocktail artwork, titled “Bloody Maria,” featuring a Bloody Mary. I produced a limited edition, and sold the first one at a group exhibition in Melbourne. Three more copies were sent to the “Pick Me Up London” art show, and they sold immediately.
At the same time, my partner opened Rotson Studios, a creative co-working space in the heart of Fitzroy (Naarm, Melbourne), where sixteen designers became a close-knit family for us in the first few years. I handled the naming, logo design, and created my first mural inside the space.
Every morning, one hour before opening my laptop, I practiced calligraphy as a mindful creative exercise, sharpening my eyes and learning to see. Other graphic designers in the co-working space began to show interest in my practice, eventually asking me if I could teach them.
In May 2014, I hosted my first six-week calligraphy course at Rotson Studios, teaching in English for the first time. After the first class, I realised the following:
- I loved the experience, and it energised me more than it exhausted me.
- It perfectly balanced my solitary workdays with the social aspect of teaching and hosting people.
- I was learning a lot by teaching.
- I remembered my father’s stories about teaching and the immense satisfaction it gave him, and I immediately understood what he had talked about for eight years.
- I discovered a new side of myself, one I had not known before, and I loved it.
During the first six months of 2014, I started using Instagram to share my textile designs and illustrated cocktail artwork. This attracted a couple of Australian independent fashion labels who commissioned me to create textile designs for their upcoming collections. Out of necessity, I started to operate as an independent designer. After these first two commissions, I worked as a freelancer for Target, Country Road, Esprit Homewares and Megan Park in Australia.
In June 2014, I published a detailed vector feather on Behance, which attracted my first international client—a brand design agency that commissioned me to design a custom feather brand mark for a luxury hotel called L’oscar London.
In September 2014, I taught my second six-week calligraphy course, and by the end of the year, I had created my second illustrated cocktail artwork, this time featuring a Gin and Tonic.
2015
At the beginning of 2015, a cocktail venue in Melbourne reached out and offered me their space to host my first solo exhibition. They suggested I expand my series of illustrated cocktail artworks, which I did. I also introduced pattern prints featuring the ingredients of each cocktail.
This exhibition was a dream come true and kept me highly motivated for the first six months of the year.
In November 2015, I opened my solo show called Breaking The Ice, which featured a total of eight illustrated cocktail artworks, five pattern prints, and two wood engravings.
Note to self: Scheduling an exhibition opening right before the holiday season turned out to be great timing, as many people bought prints as gifts.
The opening night of my exhibition was a wonderful celebration of facing fear and overcoming obstacles. However, immediately after that day, things began to shift in my mind.
Having a six-month project with a set deadline kept me incredibly focused. But after the exhibition, I felt lost, asking myself too many questions: What’s next? When will I get paid again? Where am I going now? I was truly scared.
2016
I started 2016 feeling really tired. I wasn’t motivated at all and began to let myself slip into a black hole. Nothing positive was coming to mind, and one day I sketched this: Shit will hit the fan—as if it were a premonition for the amount of shit that was about to come.
A few days later, I published As rare as rocking horse shit. Then came a third one called Built like a brick shit house. Suddenly, I was receiving texts and DMs saying, “I love your shit series!” and I thought:
My shit series? Is it a series? Yeah, it could be a series… Of course, it’s going to be a series!
So, I kept going. No particular style, no deadlines—just kept going!
As the project gained attention on Instagram, I started gaining momentum and slowly climbing out of my mental black hole.
By October 2016, I started to feel better for the first time. People kept asking, “What’s next?” and I thought, I’m just starting to feel alive again.
During the first half of the year, McCann Agency commissioned me to create an original hand-lettering artwork for Melbourne University. This artwork had two outcomes: one was a gift to the university dean, and the other was a newspaper ad to publicly thank the 20,439 donors who helped make Believe—The Campaign for the University of Melbourne possible, represented by the same number of dots forming the message.
My lettering artwork, The Richardson’s, was featured in Goodtype: The Book, Volume One, which helped spread my work internationally.
Meanwhile, my calligraphy teaching was both successful and fulfilling, keeping me energized. I taught at various venues in Australia, as well as for public institutions and in-house design firms. This part of my work provided financial stability and the ability to refuse projects if I felt they weren’t the right fit.
In the second half of 2016, I was commissioned to do my second mural for a brand-new cafe in Melbourne. They wanted a large-scale illustration of one of the ingredients used in their kitchen. I chose celery, knowing that most people either love or hate it. Its unique beauty made it stand out, without making it obvious at first glance.
Towards the end of the year, I created my first large-scale original artwork for a couple of dear friends. This project brought me a lot of joy and helped restore my motivation.
I ended 2016 by developing a script wordmark for an independent swimwear company in Australia. My work continued to attract a mix of calligraphy, lettering, branding, and illustration commissions, all connected by the thread of writing and drawing letterforms.
2017
During the first quarter of 2017, a few major milestones occurred:
- I turned forty years old.
- I became an Australian citizen after ten years of living in the country.
- I promised myself I would publish my first independent font family.
- I was invited to give my first conference talk in Australia at Typism.
I remember 2017 as the year when lettering became mainstream, with everyone and their neighbour wanting to learn about it.
Suddenly, my four calligraphy courses for the year were sold out immediately, giving me the financial room to plan ahead and decide how to spend my weekdays.
One of my illustrated cocktail artworks featured a lettering piece that attracted a lot of attention. I recall countless people asking me about it, until a close friend asked if I could turn it into a font. That question sparked a fire inside me, as I had previously attempted to publish my first two typefaces but hadn’t managed to do so.
In February 2017, I purchased a Glyphs App license and began working on it. The plan was to invest only three months full-time, as this was supposed to be a one-weight, uppercase-only font. In reality, the project evolved quickly, becoming a seven-weight chromatic font family for display purposes.
I worked on Green Fairy for nine months straight, hoping to release it at the Typism Conference, but the planets didn’t align for me this time.
During these nine months, I craved more tactile work. My calligraphy courses filled some of this gap, but the balance between digital and physical work still wasn’t right.
In June 2017, I returned to designing a new pair of decks to celebrate my partner’s and my ninth anniversary together. This personal project brought me a lot of joy, reintroducing colour and tactile experiences to counterbalance the long hours spent with Glyphs.
I was commissioned to create a third textile print, along with naming and logo design for the Australian independent fashion label CHORUS. We were selected for RMIT’s High Risk Dressing / Critical Fashion group exhibition, where we displayed the garments and explained the rationale behind the FOMO collection.
I wanted to explore an Australiana print made from contemporary elements, as well as the idea of cross-cultural influences between Spain and Australia. I chose decorative elements from Catalan Modernism and combined them with a modern take on Australian flora—the coffee flower.
CHORUS provided the colour palette, which I used to evoke an ’80s look and feel—a reference to the Fashion Design Council in Australia—infused with a contemporary twist. Using the textile print and its colour palette as a background, I designed the collection’s lettering, inspired by neon signs from the ’80s.
In September 2017, I gave my first keynote presentation at the Typism Conference and found my voice. After ten years living as an immigrant in Australia, I embraced the responsibility of opening up and telling my story, hoping it would help others see themselves reflected in my journey and take pride in who they are.
In October, I participated in my first podcast interview and designed the animation and title that announced it. This was my first time experimenting with After Effects, introducing movement into my lettering work.
2018
At the beginning of 2018, I was invited to give my second keynote presentation at The Design Conference in Brisbane.
My font —submitted six months prior— was still with the distributors, and I was waiting impatiently for them to give me the “go or not” sign.
Two weeks before my conference talk, Green Fairy was finally published, giving me the opportunity to announce it in front of an audience of seven hundred people.
In June 2018, I opened my second solo exhibition in Spain, which marked one of the happiest moments of my life. I was surrounded by a dream team of professionals at the Art Centre La Panera in Lleida.
The show displayed my main disciplines and served as a retrospective of my textile design, illustration, calligraphy, type, and lettering work.
My large-scale artwork titled Love was featured in Goodtype: The Book, Volume Two, further establishing my international presence.
In October 2018, I was diagnosed with a melanoma on my face, which led me to reflect deeply on my life and financial circumstances. Up until that point, my independent calligraphy courses were my main source of income, alongside sporadic client work.
This health scare shook me, and I began experiencing anxiety. I started therapy for the first time, and although I only attended a few sessions, I thought I was ready to move forward.
In November 2018, I closed my personal project, The Shit Series, after creating one hundred intimate and very personal artworks.
This project —which began in January 2016— was sparked by my fascination with language, particularly the many colloquial ways Aussies use the word shit.
Since its inception, the series grew through organic collaboration, allowing me to experiment with different calligraphic, lettering, and typographic styles while reflecting on the use of language as a form of cultural identity.
The Shit Series evolved significantly over two years, resulting in a collection of one hundred letterform pieces. It taught me a lot about Australian slang and served as a mirror of my own personal circumstances and emotions.
2019
Looking for more financial stability, I accepted a role in January 2019 teaching calligraphy, typography, and lettering at RMIT University.
With this job, I thought I was achieving another milestone in my professional life, but I wasn’t fully aware of a few important facts:
I was struggling with my mental health.
My melanoma scare had unearthed a lot of emotions that I had successfully buried for decades. Anxiety surfaced, fear took over my life, and I had no understanding of self-care practices. I wasn’t aware of what was truly happening to me, so I kept doing what I had been doing since 2014: rushing, pushing forward, and creating more work, regardless of the internal turmoil.
I didn’t read the signs properly.
At Rotson Studios in Melbourne, I had been teaching twelve incredibly motivated and responsive students for six weeks at a time. At RMIT, I was teaching one hundred and thirty students, many of whom were indifferent to the subject, yet I poured in the same wholehearted love and intensity I was used to giving in my private settings. After the first semester, the results were positive, but the experience made me physically sick.
I didn’t take a step back.
While my partner was on a nine-month sabbatical, I was teaching at the university four days a week, teaching at my studio most weekends, and designing my second solo exhibition in Spain. I didn’t give myself a break, and I didn’t enjoy anything I was doing. I lost all balance, and the only way I could manage my anxiety was by keeping myself busy at all times.
In June 2019, I opened my third solo exhibition in Spain. In July, I flew to Amsterdam, Berlin, Porto, and France, where I had an interview at Adobe France and gave a conference presentation as part of the Type Paris Design Program. Right after that, I fell into depression for several months.
Anxiety was slowly taking over my life, and I started to experience it daily. Even the most mundane tasks, including eating, became a challenge. At no point did it occur to me to see a psychologist again.
During the last quarter of the year, I developed an animated lettering piece celebrating my thirteen years in Australia, with the caption:
13 years ago today, I landed in Australia and I have no words to describe what an amazing ride it’s been! Incredibly grateful for all the opportunities that have come my way, and for all the talented and generous people I can now call my close friends.
Towards the end of 2019, I collaborated with typeface designer Lara Captan, producing a series of personal multi-script lettering pieces combining Arabic and Latin. These works communicated our shared values of diversity, inclusion, equality, unity, empathy, and exploration under the title Greetings from Wonderland.
2020
In January 2020, I declined the teaching position at RMIT University as I knew I couldn’t manage that intensity again.
During the same month, I released a limited edition print to raise funds for the Australian bushfire crisis. The LOVE artwork, originally created as a celebration of love for each other and love for mother nature, raised $1,900 for the Australian firefighters.
At the beginning of March 2020, I launched my first calligraphy retreat in Australia, a culmination of six years of independent teaching at Rotson Studios. One week later, the global pandemic canceled all my calligraphy courses and client work. The Australian Government provided subsidies for small businesses, which became my main source of income for the rest of the year.
During the first twelve weeks of the pandemic, I worked from my bedroom on a series of Neuland and Blackletter pieces, deepening my understanding of these styles and exploring personal expression. One piece I remember clearly is titled The days are long, but the years are short with the playful caption: “One of the highlights of my lockdown is that I haven’t worn a bra in seven weeks. Every little pleasure counts!”
In May 2020, I was commissioned to create packaging illustrations for Charlie’s, a company under Australia’s Fine Food & Co. The project, which began with fine-liner sketches and transitioned to Procreate, resulted in branding assets that were used in supermarkets across Australia. The rebranding, which included new script logotypes, was artfully directed by Lauren Vilitati.
In June and July, I attended my first online calligraphy courses with Oriol Miró, Suzanne Cunningham, and Nina Tran. The online learning experience was much better than I expected, and four weeks later, I launched my own online calligraphy course, which I enjoyed immensely.
During the six-month lockdown in Naarm (Melbourne), I discovered Tara Brach and read all of her books. Inspired by her free YouTube lectures, I released my first educational video in September 2020. To my surprise, it has now been viewed over 220,000 times.
Although self-generated work decreased during the pandemic, it never dried up completely. Every personal project I completed brought me immense joy. One such project was my ever-growing skate collection, which I began in 2014 as a playful celebration of my anniversaries with my partner.
Despite struggling with poor mental and physical health, I art-directed my best pair of decks to date under the theme RGB Low-Res Lifestyle, with the following rationale and storytelling:
On July 4th, 2020, my partner and I celebrated our 12th anniversary together.
Last year, my partner went on a nine-month sabbatical to recover from burnout. As someone who took a sabbatical in 2009, I encouraged him, knowing the benefits. But was it easy on our relationship? Not at all.
The green deck illustrates us living physically apart for most of 2019, experiencing each other only through a phone screen. The wood deck depicts our COVID-19 relationship — the complete opposite. We were together 24/7, literally on top of each other, experiencing the world in low resolution.
A few months ago, I heard Esther Perel talk about long-term relationships during COVID-19, saying couples will either see the cracks in their relationship or the light shining through those cracks. After five months in lockdown, I see only the light, and I’m grateful to have my partner by my side.
Colour palette: RGB.
In September 2020, I published an article called Finding Your Inner Compass, which led to my first online presentation for ATypI. The article, also featured on Alphabettes, discusses the challenges of navigating a creative life and offers a comprehensive list of resources to help others on their own creative journeys.
In November 2020, I finally started therapy again and haven’t stopped since, which has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
I ended the year by attending two online Blackletter calligraphy courses with Luca Barcellona through The Society of Scribes in New York City.
2021
I began 2021 with a daily meditation practice that, alongside therapy, yoga, nature walks, gratitude, and the challenging exercise of self-compassion, greatly improved my mental health. For the first time in decades, I learned how to pause.
My calligraphy education continued both online and in-person, with increasing demand for private one-on-one tuition. I also kept honing my skills by studying lettering online with Ken Barber and calligraphy with John Stevens.
In August 2021, I was featured on the Typism podcast in an interview with Dominique Falla, where we discussed the theme of Finding Your Inner Compass.
I published a few personal projects, including my Thirteen skateboard deck designs. These decks symbolised the small counter space and limited personal space we shared during Melbourne’s second six-month lockdown.
Another personal project reflected my relationship with perfectionism:
I recently discovered American writer Anne Lamott, and her quote struck a chord with me.
Since the start of the pandemic, I’ve found it difficult to generate personal work. This is new for me, as I’m usually extremely self-driven and motivated.
I’ve reflected on this and reminded myself that last year wasn’t an artist retreat I scheduled in my calendar, nor was it a sabbatical to find my voice. It was, and still is, a global health and financial crisis taking many lives daily. My productivity or creative output is not a measure of my self-worth.
However, perfectionism is no stranger to me. It’s an old toxic friend, always lingering and reminding me that nothing is ever enough. I push it away; perfectionism pushes back. It’s a long battle, but I’m working on it.
This work-in-progress brings me joy because 1) I’m generating a new personal project, and 2) I’m not letting perfectionism stand in my way.
Client work picked up as well, with a focus on branding assets such as wordmarks, brand marks, monograms, custom type, and packaging illustrations. I enjoyed this work, which brought together many of my skills: attention to detail, letterform design, surface patterns, and visual brand identity.
2022
2022 began with three bold decisions:
- After eleven years living in Naarm (Melbourne), we closed an important chapter in our lives and moved.
- We relocated to a regional area near the beach, 1500 km north of our previous home.
- After eight years of running Rotson Studios, we transferred the business, bidding farewell to a beloved project where we built some of our strongest relationships.
My client work continued to grow, focusing on premium branding assets, packaging, and editorial design. A standout collaboration was with Sydney-based digital agency Windsorborn, where we crafted a new wordmark and monogram, achieving excellent results.
In May 2022, I gave a guest lecture for the Principles of Typeface Design class at Type@Cooper in New York City, led by Troy Leinster. Wanting to reach a broader audience, I made this presentation public for design students and mid-career professionals interested in typography without pursuing full-time type design. It’s available on my YouTube channel.
My in-person calligraphy education transitioned to a fully online model, opening global opportunities while losing some Australian students. I taught five online courses and began offering monthly private online tuitions, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
On July 19, 2022, we embarked on an overseas journey, spending a month in Chiang Mai, Thailand, and then arriving in Barcelona in August after three long years. We moved every two months while working remotely, seeking different environments to see where we felt most comfortable.
In the last quarter of the year, I launched a personal project on the topic of Consent, with the caption:
Consent: Permission for something to happen, or agreement to do something. In 2019, in Porto, I saw a girl with a tattoo on her thighs: ‘NO’ on one, ‘STILL NO’ on the other. I couldn’t capture the moment, but that message stayed with me. This project is my homage to her, and to the universal truth that a NO is always a NO, no matter how it’s said.
In November and December, we relocated to a small beach town, one hour north of Barcelona. I spent Christmas with my family for the first time in eleven years.
Towards the end of 2022, one of my best clients commissioned two custom wordmarks for a luxury hotel in the Himalayas. The design studio Inaria presented four concepts, and the client selected one of my designs, leaving me with a huge smile to close out the year.
2023
In 2023, we continued our journey, moving every two to three months. We spent the first quarter in Barcelona, where I released my first pre-recorded calligraphy course.
In April, I began working at a co-working space in Barcelona for the first time since leaving Rotson Studios. Nau Bostik in Sagrera was an incredible experience, full of talented and generous creatives. During my time there, I developed a custom display alphabet called Script Meets Fraktur.
In May, we relocated to the wine region of Priorat in southern Catalonia, followed by two more months back in Barcelona. I was honored to teach a Copperplate calligraphy class at AtypI Paris, where I reunited with many dear friends, teachers, and colleagues.
In August, we moved to Germany for five weeks and worked from C-Space Berlin, another fantastic co-working space. While there, I created four digital editorials about the John Wick Chapters written by Nate Burgos for Design Feast.
Although my online education and client work slowed down in 2023, the quality and interest in the projects coming my way increased. One of my proudest moments was being commissioned by Pentagram to create a calligraphic editorial that received a typographic excellence award from both Communication Arts Magazine and the Type Directors Club in New York City. I was absolutely thrilled!
Shortly after, Porto Rocha, one of my favourite design studios, commissioned me another project. Although it didn’t get published, I made a Behind the scenes video to showcase the creative process.
On World Book Day, I was excited to see my vector feather illustration used on the cover of one of Sara J. Maas’s international best-sellers, A Court of Wings and Ruin. This artwork, which I first produced in 2013, has since brought me the following:
- A longstanding relationship with UK luxury brand design studio Inaria (active income)
- Several large-scale limited edition print sales (passive income)
- Licensing non-exclusive rights to the feather illustration for ten years (passive income)
In October 2023, I taught my first in-person course in Spanish at Tipo-G Typography School in Barcelona. The course, titled Script alphabets: Grow, Branch Out and Flourish, was a positive experience with highly dedicated students. It was a twenty-four-hour workshop divided into three parts:
Writing a Connected Script:
- Introduction to Script alphabets
- Historical context
- Writing demos: Copperplate calligraphy minuscules and simpler capitals
- Contrast and ratio variations, connections, cursivity and shading hierarchies
Introduction to Script Font Design:
- Drawing some key characters for a future typographic development
- Practical demos on vector letter drawing with Adobe Illustrator and Glyphs App
- Script alphabets design principles
Drawing a Script Lettering with Flourishes:
- Hand lettering exercises
- Variations in ascenders and descenders
- Introduction to swashes and flourishes
- Animating a monoline Script lettering with Adobe After Effects
In November 2023, we moved to Thailand for three months, continuing to work remotely. During this time, I had the opportunity to guest teach at the typeface design program Practica Latin One, led by Sol Matas and Nicole Dotin. I am thrilled to have become a regular guest lecturer for the program.
2024
We started 2024 in Thailand, and at the end of January we moved to a rural area in Vietnam for two months. February and March were very slow months: Client work massively slowed down; we were in a local area where most of the population didn’t speak English, and we didn’t speak Vietnamese either. Very few casual transactional conversations were happening, and no friends around for five months. This time away reminded me of our two years in isolation in Melbourne, bringing a lot of lonely feelings with it.
During this time, I read a couple of books that have made a huge impact on my creative journey. The first is called Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, which I describe as the ultimate creative mental health guidebook.
“If you’re somebody who gauges herself on how well you’re doing compared to a former version of yourself, that’s a disaster.” — Elizabeth Gilbert
Coinciding with reading this book, I also joined a Substack page by the same author called Letters From Love, where you write a weekly letter to yourself—using different prompts—in the most compassionate, supportive, friendly, and kind way possible.
This practice has become very powerful for me, as I have been conditioned to be very hard on myself. So, finding a new voice in my heart—instead of in my head—that communicates with me using a different language has been challenging, but ultimately the most rewarding of all.
Gilbert also talks about the difference between a hobby, job, career, and vocation. This is something I thought I understood well after running my own creative practice for ten years, but her definitions were very helpful nevertheless:
Hobby: A hobby is something you do for pleasure, and the stakes are low—like karaoke. You don’t have to have one, but if you do, it’s really nice because it shows that you are not just a cog in the machine of production. Some of your hours belong to pure pleasure, and your creativity can be rooted in that. Before television, everyone had hobbies; now everyone’s hobby is the screen.
Job: You don’t need to have a hobby, but you do need to have a job. You need a way to get by in this material world. You need to feed yourself and have a roof over your head. Unless you have a trust fund or someone completely supporting you, you should have a job. I would argue that even if you have a trust fund and someone is completely supporting you, you should still have a job. It is a great point of honour, especially for a woman, to have a way to support herself in the world; to have the freedom of mobility; to be able to change your life if you need to; to take care of yourself; and to pull your own weight. Having a job doesn’t define you. It’s not who you are; it’s just what you do.
Career: This is another thing you don’t have to have—just like a hobby. A career is something you should pursue only if you’re passionate about something and want to devote a lot of energy to it. It’s for those who want to pour themselves into advancing, growing, learning, shaping, and changing things. Having a career is like an accelerated version of having a job. You don’t have to like your job, and that’s fine. But if you don’t like your career, you’re in the wrong one, and you should just get a job. Don’t pour your life into something unless you truly want to.
Vocation: This one however, is a sacred thing—it’s your calling. It’s the thing that makes you want to get up in the morning. Your vocation doesn’t necessarily have to be related to your hobby, job, or career. It’s uniquely yours. You can lose your job, someone can take your career away from you, but no one can take your vocation away from you—that is your sacred gift.
You can see Liz Gilbert elaborating further here.
The second book I read at the beginning of 2024 was The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. This classic has gotten me into the habit of writing three pages every morning before doing anything else—including checking my phone or having breakfast. It’s a private exercise where I meditate on the page, something I feel very comfortable with due to my already mindful calligraphy practice.
Over the years, I have kept a diary, written articles, and maintained these decade-long bi-monthly newsletters. These practices have helped me stay connected to my creative voice, track my progress, and share my experiences with others. In many ways, writing has been as integral to my creative process as drawing or designing, providing clarity and insight into my own journey.
Our two months in rural Vietnam made me reflect a lot on my journey. 2024 marks my tenth year as an independent creative business of one, and deep down, I thought things would get easier from now on. However, I’ve heard plenty of designers—including Paula Scher—say that it never gets easy. There is always a new chapter to face: you didn’t have enough experience, and now you are overqualified, a-ha!
My creative practice is guided by the principles of never stopping learning, sharing knowledge, and creating emotion through my work. Following these principles, during the first quarter of 2024, I turned all my live online courses into self-paced learning experiences, giving students the opportunity to complete my courses on their own schedules and agendas. This decision came after regularly changing continents and time zones, making it difficult to maintain a consistent schedule.
In April 2024, we landed in Istanbul, which I absolutely loved! I took a few days off each week to ensure I could explore enough of this fifteen-million-people metropolis, full of humans, street cats, dogs, and the most stunning mosques I have ever witnessed. We had the opportunity to work from the Turkish Design Council for a few days while enjoying their design library. During my time in Istanbul, I developed a Latin companion for an Arabic font (54 glyphs), which reignited my interest in typeface design.
In May, we returned to Spain, and I’m currently writing to you from an apartment in Barcelona. July 19, 2024, marked two years since we started our new chapter outside of Australia. We have moved accommodations fifteen times so far, which has been fun, a privilege, and extremely tiring. To celebrate this milestone, my partner and I held an AGM (Annual General Meeting) to assess the situation, reflect on our nomadic journey, say thank you, and plan what’s ahead of us.
I hope that by now, you have a broad sense of my colourful and winding journey, including many challenges, successes, heartbreaks, merits, and setbacks. This journey, like any project, is about enjoying the process and getting to know yourself better.
Sharing My Knowlege
To close this long story, I would like to share with you a few practical resources. The first one is a summary of my current income streams.
For the first eight years of my independent career, I taught calligraphy from my studio in Naarm (Melbourne). This became my main income source and provided me with great satisfaction, keeping me very social on a weekly basis (which I love and need), and offering stability and the ability to refuse projects if I felt I wasn’t the best fit for them.
Currently, I offer pre-recorded calligraphy courses, live online group and private tuition, license my illustration work, monetise my YouTube channel where I provide free educational resources, and work on commercial commissions. The ratio of passive to active income changes constantly, as does modern life.
Lastly, there are two more aspects that don’t bring in revenue but are important parts of my practice. The first one, I am the author and editor of a bimonthly newsletter that has been running for ten years. This has helped me enormously to stay accountable, create a visual diary of my interests and motivations, and improve my writing skills in English, a language I only learned at the age of twenty-nine. Additionally, I mentor RMIT University students, guiding them in their journey.
Secondly, here are some resources and tools that have been helpful in enhancing my lettering skills.
Consistency:
Drawing and writing on a regular basis over the years.
Learning to See:
Developing observational skills and analysing why a design works or doesn’t, which also helped me develop my taste.
Visual Library:
Creating an eclectic visual library of styles to show prospective clients in the form of a visual menu.
Go Back to the Future:
Studying the work of writing and design masters.
Finding Your Voice:
Archiving visual and content material that deeply resonates with you and asking yourself why.
Thirdly, I would like to describe my process for developing a new lettering project.
Concept
What is the idea behind the design?
What do we want to communicate?
Who is the audience?
Context
Where will the design be applied?
Is it for a large billboard?
Is it for a business card application?
Is it for both?
Longevity
Is it a temporary application, like a daily newspaper?
Is it for a weekly or monthly magazine?
Is it intended for years, such as a book or music cover?
Is it permanent, like a logotype?
Initial Creative Process
Most of my lettering projects are informed by my own calligraphy. I often start with a very rough calligraphic sketch, where I study the letter combinations and the context for the design.
I craft several rounds of hand sketches, refining and finessing each round while thinking with my brain and my hand simultaneously. This approach can save time in the digitization process, as I’m envisioning the final forms and the DNA of the design while refining it by hand.
Refinement
Depending on the characteristics of the job, I digitize my work by vectorizing it with Glyphs, redrawing it with Procreate, or using a combination of both.
And finally, I would like to share strategies I use to stay inspired and motivated when facing creative blocks or challenges in my work.
I am a very curious person with a wide range of interests. When I encounter a creative block, I try to implement one or more of the following strategies:
Go Out and Look Up
Extend your perspective. Connect with nature and wildlife, and marvel at it. Remember how small you are and the privilege of being alive.
Engage with Culture
Visit art exhibitions, attend live music gigs, go to the movies, or see a play. Stay connected with culture that is unrelated to lettering. This helps you step out of your creative bubble.
Read Widely
Read about topics that aren’t directly linked to your practice. One of my personal interests is creative mental health, which I explore constantly.
Explore Bookstores
Browse bookstores for beautiful contemporary work. This can reignite your passion and give you insights into current trends in the editorial world.
Keep a Diary
Maintain a diary of your thoughts. What seems trivial now may spark a surprisingly good idea in the future.
Follow Your Curiosity
Pursue your curiosity and follow the thread, even if it leads to unexpected real-life or digital destinations.
Conclusion
In the past, I have struggled with a healthier perspective, often focusing too much on the negative aspects without considering other equally or more important factors, such as:
1) I have strong legs that carry me all day, taking me on long walks in nature, to yoga, to the supermarket, to work, and to endless dancing sessions when I need them.
2) I have strong arms that allow me to draw and write for many hours a day, type this story on my laptop, and carry food, water, and our 25-kg luggage around the world.
3) I have great vision that helps me navigate, read books, watch movies, absorb both the best and worst of social media, and enjoy the most beautiful sunsets.
4) I have my voice, which allows me to communicate verbally, laugh, sneeze, and scream loudly whenever I feel like it.
5) I can drive a car and a motorbike, which gives me a fantastic sense of freedom.
6) I have friends and family who care about me.
7) I possess several creative talents that I try to exercise regularly, providing me with the sweetest rewards.
8) I am at an age where I mentor students and other creatives who are starting or in the middle of their journeys.
9) I speak three languages fluently, which allows me to learn from diverse sources.
10) I am both a student and a teacher; my best way of learning is by teaching others.
11) We are all beginners in Earth School, no matter how many decades we have been around. It is the hardest of schools, and no one ever becomes a master.
12) After twenty-four years since graduating from university, I am still in love with creativity and letterforms.
Wishing you the best creative juices on your journey!
Much love, Maria xx
Bibliography
The Creative Pro by Jim Antonopoulos;
The Dark Art of Pricing by Jessica Hische;
The Emotional Culture Deck by Raiders and Elephants;
The Mentorship Collection by Jim Antonopoulos;
Finding a Mentor by 3 Point Perspective Podcast;
Mentorship Program by Alphabettes;
Start With Why by Simon Sinek;
Finding yourself over and over again by Jessica Hische;
What is design education actually for? Panel discussion with Eric Hu, Hassan Rahim and Erik Brandt;
The questions you need to ask yourself by Debbie Millman;
Finding your creative style and voice by Jessica Walsh;
The top 10 things I wish I knew when I graduated college by Debbie Millman;
Where are the black designers? What’s Next? Roundtable with Roxanne Gay, Antoniette Carroll, Kelly Walters, Elaine Lopez, Alexandra Cunningham Cameron and Chris Livaudais;
The Staving Artist Podcast Designing Your Creative Life with Honor Eastly and Sarah Firth;
What you have to offer is you, what I have to offer is me by Charlie Kaufman;
The Sum of by Kevin Finn;
Discovering Your Why by Lauren Vilitati;
Women in Type and Design by Maria Montes;
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert;
The Artist Way by Julia Cameron;
True Refuge by Tara Brach;
Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach;
Radical Compassion by Tara Brach.