I want to be a designer.

I haven't posted a blog in a really long time. But I wrote an application letter to be a part of the Bachelor of Fine Arts in graphic design program at Fresno State, and I figured I'd share it.


I want to be a designer. I want to create, I want to manipulate, I want to destroy, and I want to rebuild. I want to try, I want to succeed, and I want to fail. I want to experiment, I want to change, and I want to learn.

Since I was very young, I’ve been a creative person. I’ve had a way of looking at the world that seems to differ from so many people around me. I have had a childlike curiosity that shows no signs of going away. That curiosity has burned into me a need and a desire to learn more about everything. I have such an open mind that sometimes my thoughts actually fall out.

I have made the decision that being a designer is the way I want to live the rest of my life. I absolutely love helping people. I love getting requests, suggestions, and problems from other people. I want to be able to deliver a design that will make someone happy. I want to be able to create a design that will help start a business, or even save one. I feel that I have been given multiple talents that I can combine to help people. I have the ability to listen, understand, and sympathize with someone I’ve never met. I feel that I can put myself into their situation and really understand what they are talking about. I also have the ability to take images and thoughts out of my head and put them into a tangible, understandable physical form. By combining these two things, I feel that I have the potential to be a great designer. By listening and understanding what someone wants, I can help them create exactly the kind of image, brand, identity, or message that they need. Milton Glaser said that he would feel like a jerk for not using his gifts to help people. I couldn’t agree more. I don’t want to waste what I know is a gift.

I’ve already started working as a graphic designer, without even realizing that’s what I was doing. I’ve designed t-shirts, logos, websites and more. I’ve worked for The Collegian newspaper on campus for two years now and have won awards in state-wide and national conferences. But I know that I can be better.

The reason I want to be a part of the BFA program is the fact that I understand that I know so very little. With the help of instructors and the experience I’ll get in classes, I will be able to define my skill set and really get an edge that will help me to become a great designer. I know that there is only so much I can do on my own, and working with people who have been in the field and understand what they’re talking about will help me to really understand what it means to be a great designer.

As a graphic designer, I understand that my job will be to create more than just images, and that is exactly how I want it to be. I want to create new ways of thinking. I want to create new ideas. I know that a good design can do more than just communicate to people. It can give a person or a company the confidence they need to become successful. It can make someone feel better about themself by getting them the attention they deserve. A good design can make people feel something. Those are the kinds of designs I want to create.

Look Good, Feel Good.

I'm going to admit it, I'm a bit narcissistic sometimes. I love seeing photos of myself, I love dressing nicely, and I love being complimented on my appearance. But I can't say that being a little bit of a narcissist isn't healthy.

I really think everyone needs to have a little bit of that feeling of pride when it comes to the way they look. There is something about a confident person that really makes them stand out. I honestly believe that when you look good, you feel good.

When you think you're lookin' good, you feel good about it. When you feel good about your appearance, you're confident. When you're confident, you tend to look more attractive, and knowing that you look attractive makes you feel good, doesn't it?

Obviously there is a line between healthy narcissism and obsession. But trying to look good every once in a while won't hurt anyone, and it can ultimately make you feel better about yourself.

Stop. Drop. Live.

Have you ever just stopped to take a look around and enjoy a moment? It seems to be something people are doing less and less these days. Almost everyone is so busy planning for tomorrow that they forget to enjoy today.

I get so frustrated when I look around and see people living their lives 10 years into the future. It's as if they feel like the world is ending soon and they have a whole list of things they have to get done before it's too late. But what's the point? What good is tomorrow if you can't enjoy today? What makes you think tomorrow will be so much better?

Now I'm not saying the future is going to suck. I have very high hopes for it as many of you do. But let's imagine for a second that something tragic happens, and you die in three days. You don't know it's going to happen until it's too late. Will you have enjoyed the last few days of your life? How about weeks? Months? Years? What's the point of rushing toward the finish line when you don't even know when, where, or what it is?

One of the things I'm starting to notice is people rushing through some of the best parts of their lives. People are trying to blast through college, sign up for as many units as possible, get an internship that will take away all your time and hopefully lead to a decent looking resume so you can maybe get that job you want ten years from now, and all sorts of similar things. What happened to the days when college was about good times, friends, crazy nights, meaningful relationships, and a good looking resume? Throughout most of my time in school, people always told me "College is going to be the best time of your life." And while I hope that that isn't entirely true, I do still believe it should be among the best times in your life.

The point I'm trying to make is that we need to slow down once in a while. Appreciate the things we have in our lives now. Spend time with your friends. Be with the people you love. Go on adventures. Spend some money on things you don't necessarily need. Bend a few rules. Enjoy your life.

My Car

Anyone who claims to be my friend knows that I have an incredibly strong connection to my car. It's probably obvious to complete strangers too, now that I think about it. But I want to clarify a few things about my obsession with my vehicle.

I am not just a stereotypical guy who loves his car.

Yes, I love my car.

Yes, I love driving it.

Yes, I love working on it.

Yes, I love showing it off.

Yes, I love the stares I get while driving it.

Yes, I take better care of it than my own body.

But I have good reasons for all of these things.

No, really, I do.

My car is not just a car. It is a project. It is a legacy. It has meaning.

It all goes back to when my dad was about my age. He loved Datsuns. He loved Zs. He used to tell me about when he was a kid, and how he would go to the Datsun dealership and just sit in the new Zs on the showroom floor. He even convinced one of his teachers at school to buy a Z before he had ever driven one. I don't know exactly how many Zs my dad has owned in his liftime, but the number is probably higher than you might guess. He could tell you just about anything you would ever need to know about a Datsun 240z or a 280zx Turbo. He could take one apart and put it all back together in a matter of days.

My point is, my dad is a Z guy.

My first car was a Datsun 280zx Turbo. It was a black and gold beast with T-Tops and gold honeycomb rims. It was a beauty. It was an automatic, so that's what I learned to drive in. I got my license from the DMV in that car.

About two years later, I started to imagine myself driving the beautiful orange 240z that had been parked in our driveway for some time. I wondered what it would be like to rev the engine, what it would be like to dirve a stick shift, and how cool it would be to dirve a car with an interior that felt like the cockpit of a fighter jet. I never asked my dad if I could drive it because I always felt like it was his toy car; not something for a rookie like me to be playing around with.

Not long after my days of dreaming of driving stick had started, my dad started to teach me. I practiced with him, I practiced with my mom, and I started to get the hang of it.

One day, I was running late for school. I ran out to my car and realized I probably had enough gas to make it to a gas station and nowhere else. I called my mom and asked what I should do. She was at work, Dad was at work, and the only other car at the house was the orange 240z.

That was the day that I fell in love. I went inside to grab the keys, and I got goosebumps. Just holding the key to such an amazing machine was enough to get my adrenaline flowing. I drove to school that day in the orange 240, and never looked back. I somehow managed to continue driving it, more and more often, until it became a daily routine. After some time had passed, my dad started calling it "your car" when we talked about it. I'll never forget how awesome it felt when I heard him say that for the first time.

I also love my car because of the work my dad and I put into it. The two of us have done all sorts of work on it, from engine tweaking to body detailing. My dad taught me how to make my car look brand new every time I wash it. He showed me how to put speakers pretty much anywhere you want them. We installed a cruise control unit in it. We rebuilt the entire engine together. I have learned more than I can even try to explain about cars, and driving cars while working on my Z with my dad.

My car is the main feature in a lot of my best memories, too. I have gone on some amazing journeys with my car, and I know that they wouldn't have been half as good with any other car.

So if you think I'm obsessed with my car, you're right. I am. But at least now you have some kind of idea of why that is the case.

I'm kinda proud of this.

I love photoshop. I know I could have done better with this one, but I was just messin' around, so I'm pretty satisfied regardless.

Think For Yourself. Please.

This is one that I wrote a while ago, but I felt that this blog could use some more entries.

It seems that more and more, people have outlets where they can force their opinion on anyone who can click a mouse. My problem is that it seems many of the people doing the mouse-clicking have become human sponges. People can't seem to form their own opinions anymore.

"I read that the new Transformers movie sucks. Let's see something else."
"I heard that James is a jerk."
"No thanks, my friend told me roast duck tastes awful."

People need to start thinking for themselves. How can you know anything if you don't find out for yourself? How will you know the Transformers movie sucks unless you see it? What if you end up loving it? You can't know until you do it yourself. The same goes for any situation I can think of. You can't know that something is good, bad, or O.K. until you experience it yourself.

Maybe you have a friend that you really trust. You share the same taste in just about every subject. Fine. Listen to them. Base your opinion on theirs. But don't start telling other people that something sucks based on an opinion that isn't even yours! People start this chain of assumption that is based on nothing... and I can hardly take it anymore.

Please. Form your own opinions. I have absolutely no problem with sharing your opinion. That's exactly what I'm doing. But don't expect your opinion to become truth, and don't base your opinion on something that someone else said. Base it on your own experience.

My Wife.

What if I've already met her?

What if she was the girl who told me my camera lens was sexy?
What if she was that girl that I spilled coffee on in Alaska?
What if she was the girl at the register in the Vans store?
What if I bumped into her in Disneyland 3 years ago?

I just think it's crazy to think that I could have already met the "love of my life", so to speak, and I have no way to know it. I could have met her yesterday, and I will never remember. Even after we meet again, I won't remember that we've already met. It's just crazy to think about. There are so many "what if" combinations that it pretty much blows my mind.

She could be reading this blog right now, and she doesn't know that someday we'll be married.
It's just crazy.