⧉ The exception and the exceptional
Welcome to the third issue of OVERLAP ⧉
The exception and the exceptional
I took some art classes in college, including a sculpture class during my senior year. We worked on several projects throughout the semester, and like most art classes, we gathered a few times to show our finished pieces and critique each other’s work.
Everyone participated in this process except for one student. We saw the student occasionally, wandering in and out of the studio in a welder’s mask. The student never completed the projects or participated in critiques. I don’t recall the student engaging with anyone else, and I never heard an explanation for what, exactly, the student was doing.
I didn’t think much of it at the time. Every class has its token slacker, and I was focused on my own work.
Senior art students were invited to submit their pieces to a juried show in the campus gallery. One of my lithographs was selected for the show, and I went to the opening. In the center of the gallery, hulking and gleaming, was an enormous metal sculpture. It was, by far, the most daring and interesting piece in the show. And standing beside it, glowing with pride, was the strangely aloof student from my sculpture class. The art department faculty gathered around — shaking hands, patting backs, slinging praise.
This probably sounds like a parable. Maybe it is.
I didn’t tell you the student’s gender, but you already know. It’s hard to imagine a woman attempting something like that, let alone getting away with it. As a woman, is there something I should learn from this student about navigating the world and getting what I want? It would be easy to make this an allegory about “leaning in” — Act like a man! There are no rules! You’re the only one holding yourself back!
I think most of us recognize that for the lie it is. And besides … the student is not actually the hero of this story.
While he was off welding metal, the rest of us were building something more significant. Ongoing critique of our creative work was a profoundly formative experience. We learned how to see, how to think, how to work, how to grow ... as a group. The process mattered.
After a couple decades, the lesson has become more obvious: grand visions and independent work will only get you so far. Sure, bold loners might have early success or make a few big splashes. But without peers and a community — without sharing your ideas and making yourself vulnerable to critique along the way — it’s nearly impossible to sustain good work. That’s the difference between being an exception and being exceptional.
⧉
The second issue of this newsletter may have sparked an analog notebook frenzy on LinkedIn. And certain people emailed me to confess about their washi tape shopping sprees. Click at your own risk!
I’d love to hear what you think (or buy) — reply to this email or send a note through my website. You can also forward this to a friend or two and invite them to subscribe.
⧉
Auntie Jess recommends:
Baggu. Like many good things in my life, these reusable shopping bags came to me by way of Rachel James (my chief co-conspirator). They’re small and light enough that I can keep them with me all the time. My plastic bag consumption is at an all-time low.
Bethany Heck’s portfolio. My colleague Bernice shared this designer’s website, and it’s one of the best I’ve seen. I especially like the case study on design leadership at Medium.
Behind the byline with Jenna Wortham. The New York Times interviews its own staff, and the latest column features one of my faves. If you’re not already following Jenna Wortham in all the places, consider this an opportunity to get yourself together.
⧉
Thanks for reading. I’d love to hear from you — hit reply to share your favorite tote bags, case studies, NYT personalities, or anything else that’s on your mind.
Until next time,
Jessica
⧉